Kendo no Go: A Fanfic in 100 Chapters
by Akai Kitsune
Summary: A collection of brief stories, spanning anywhere from the childhood of the characters, almost exclusively K&K, to Seisouhen. This is a fanfic parody, combining aspects of RK and Diane Schoemperlen's novel, In The Language of Love.
1. Chapter 1 Chabudai

Kendo no Go  
In The Language of Kendo  
A Fanfic in 100 Chapters  
Akai Kitsune  
**~*~**  
1) Chabudai  
**~*~**

Kamiya Kioku was not happy.

Her husband ignored her carefully expressed anger, reading the papers in front of him with increased interest. The war was over, finally, and life in Edo was beginning to return to normal. He himself had come home only three weeks previous, and the mood that fact had created in his mind would certainly not be spoiled by the woman's tense spirit.

Besides the war, the primary topic of that day's paper - as it had been for several years, now - little else was occurring in the city. Murders - _'I'll probably have to deal with that eventually as well,'_ he thought with dread - theft, vandalism... the normal events of a large town where the people thrived on violence. There was certainly enough turbulent emotions spouting from the capital to spread to their fair city. As an old soldier and an official policeman of Edo, he had enough to deal with, without having to think of Kyoto again.

His daughter watched her mother serve their meal with a deep frown on her face, unsure of the stormy emotions surrounding the chabudai at which they knelt. It was 1869, and Kaoru would be eight years old in a month.

She had not been sure what to think when her father had come home. As she remembered, the household had been peaceful and happy without his stern, intense presence. He was like a mountain, tall and hard, and when he left there had been nothing left but her mother, the wind, and smiles. It had been quiet, and her mother had kissed her goodnight as she always had before, like nothing had changed.

But when he came back, the first thing her had done was pick her up and swing her around in his arms, and she had spread her fingers wide to feel the wind flowing through them. She had felt as if she were flying, and afterwards, still carrying her, he had kissed her mother as if he, too, wanted to wish her goodnight. Maybe he had yearned for that kiss for a long time.

"Welcome home," Kioku had given him a small smile; they had gone inside to have dinner, and the silence returned, without the feeling of peace she had grown to love while he was away.

The miso was bland, the beef slightly overcooked. Kioku murmured an apology, but her husband merely waved it off. Koshijirou was not easily ruffled by such trivial things, although it was unusual for her to make a mistake. She loved cooking, and she always placed her greatest effort into her duties.

After dinner, they treated themselves to shaved ice and steaming green tea. Kaoru took great delight in pouring a little bit of tea into her ice, the flavoured dessert melting into transparent crystals, tinged yellow and green by the crushed leaves of their drink. Her parents merely smiled at her antics, although not at each other. Later, Kioku broke a dish in the sink, her eyes narrowed in fierce determination as she washed them. Koshijirou left for his night shift, muttering a quick "thank you for the meal," his sword clinking against his belt. Kaoru watched them both, curious and sad at the same time, and suddenly felt very determined that she would never be like that when she grew up; so secretive, so distant.

She wanted to grow up, and she would never, ever get married like her parents did. She wanted to grow up quickly, so she could live alone and do what she pleased, without having to rely on anyone.

It seemed like something that was very far away.

Eventually, of course, she did grow up. It did not turn out to be as far away as it first seemed. Her mother died not long after that, and through her tears and the sudden lack of direction in her life, she discovered that she wanted to have someone to rely on. She did not want to be alone so badly.

Perhaps her father was the same, she also realized, as she stood against the shoji, watching him hold her mother's kimono close to his body and cry, and cry, and cry.

She learned that she was more like her father than she ever could have realized before. That... they both needed someone to rely upon.

The next day, he began teaching kenjutsu in the training hall that had been her grandfather's, unused for nearly twenty years, and she became his first student.

**~*~**

After he left to fight in the Seinan war, nine years later, and did not return, she learned to rely on herself. She left the dojo open to all students seeking her father's ideal - to protect, not to kill - and kept on living where she had always been. She had not expected to remain there when on her own, but rather had thought she would move out and find her own path, her own home. She had not expected to live so much longer than her parents.

When she could afford it, she ate at the local restaurants near her home, now Tokyo instead of the Edo she remembered. She visited her friend Tae at the Akabeko, who was a few years older than her, yet was still happy to spend time with the independent assistant master. She tried to learn how to cook, with Tae at her side giving instructions when she could, but each attempt seemed faulty in some manner. The meals were burned, overspiced or without flavour, sickly and undercooked. Each failure tore into her heart, but she would not be deterred, and still she tried.

She never traveled, because it was expensive and she was forced to learn to be careful with her money. Yen did not come easy, especially for a female kendo instructor. She learned to be thrifty, to use every resource available. She made a routine for her life, careful and sure.

She met a wanderer in the streets one night, expecting to see someone other than who he was, and found more than she ever thought was possible.

**~*~**

Notes: This is a parody of Diane Schoemperlen's "In The Language of Love". I'm currently in the middle of reading it myself, actually, and am writing the chapters as I read them. I was rather amused by the first few chapters of the novel and - for no particularly good reason - decided that it would make a good parody. That doesn't necessarily mean that it will be a comedy. There will be some comedy involved (as much as I can write, ^_^;;) but most of it will be inside jokes connecting to the book, sarcasm, and poking fun at the characters. The majority of the story will, however, be a closer look at the characters' lives, beyond all the happy, "everything is perfect" facade that drives me crazy sometimes. I'll try hard not to make it _all_ miserable. ^_^

"Kendo no Go" is basically Japanese for "language of kendo". Incorporating "in" into the title was a bit of a step up for me (I'm lazy _and_ a basic learner of the language), but it fits, anyway.

The original title of this chapter was "Table", which is basically what a chabudai is.

**~*~**

Thanks for reading.  
_Akai Kitsune  
Written January, 2003_


	2. Chapter 2 Shadow

Kendo no Go  
In The Language of Kendo  
A Fanfic in 100 Chapters  
Akai Kitsune  
~*~  
2) Shadow  
~*~

Kaoru never did much like the dark.  
  
**dark adj. 1. kurai (partially or entirely without light) 2. koi (nearly black)  
**  
Her mother was understanding, and she would often hold the sniffling child on particularly frightening nights, but she would always leave with a goodnight kiss and her sad, half-smile before she fell asleep. Her father disapproved, even more so after Kioku's death; a kendo student needed to be brave and strong. A weakness, such a fear of the unknown, was intolerable.  
  
**dark adj. 3. bonyari shita (difficult to understand; obscure) 4. usugurai (dismal; gloomy; somber; hopeless) 5. ikari (angry or sullen).  
**  
Kenshin was never able to sleep when she lay awake, listening to the silence of the shadows around her. He would often whisper to her, quietly ask what was wrong, and if he could help in any way. She would always shake her head in response, and simply lie in his arms, safe and protected from whatever it was that haunted her.  
  
**dark adj. 6. warui (sinister; wicked; evil). 7. muchi (unenlightened; ignorant).  
**  
"It's all right," he would tell her, although sometimes it was hard to believe in his voice. "When I was young, I used to be afraid of the dark."

_ 'The key phrase being "used to", rurouni-chan,' _she wanted to reply testily, but she couldn't begrudge him for trying. Kindness was what he thrived and existed on; she hated to make him feel guilty for failing to comfort her.  
  
**dark. n. 1. kurai (the state of being in darkness; the absence of light). 2. yoru (nightfall; night). 3. koi (a dark shade or colour).  
**  
She was amazingly grateful - not that it would have made her love him less - that her son was born with his father's hair, at least in part. Instead of the raven colouring she had earned from her parents, he had inherited a deep auburn shade, similar to his father's ember hair yet still different. She couldn't help but hate her own hair; it was so plain, so very natural for her country... but when she looked at her husband, she always felt a smile touch her lips. He was so different, it drew her in at every circumstance. His hair, his eyes, even his spirit was something she'd never felt before. But most of all, she loved how no matter what, he was always able to make her smile. Her husband; all hers. She snuggled closer to him, and when she closed her eyes, she no longer saw the darkness, and instead was comforted by a vision of his face.  
  
~*~

Note: The original name of this chapter in Schoemperlen's novel was "Dark".


	3. Chapter 3 Song

Kendo no Go  
In The Language of Kendo  
A Fanfic in 100 Chapters  
Akai Kitsune  
**~*~**  
3) Song  
**~*~**

Kenshin liked to sing when he did the laundry.  
Oh, it wasn't exactly a song, by definition.  
  
**song n. uta ( 1. [Music] _a)_ A brief composition written or adapted for singing. _b) _The act or art of singing. 2. A distinctive or characteristic sound made by an animal, such as a bird or an insect. 3. _a)_ Poetry; verse. _b)_ A lyric poem or ballad.)  
**  
There were no words, at least not to her knowledge. But sometimes, as she watched him, Kaoru could hear the musical lilt of his husky voice humming an old tune, one she couldn't recognize or name. She wasn't sure if even he knew the name of it, but it was always the same. When it got to the point where she started subconsciously singing it with him, she finally approached him and asked what it was he was doing.

"Oro?" he answered, then regretted it as a vein seemed to grow on her forehead. "Oh, it's not much... I don't think I even realized what I was humming... I'm sorry if it bothers you-"

"Kenshin no baka," she muttered tiredly, "Can't you ever just answer a question?"

"Sumanei," he apologized again, as he always did. "I believe it was an old battle march for Choshuu... funny, I didn't even realize it. We used to sing it to taunt the Shinsengumi - and I don't really care to mention the lyrics- itai!" He winced, as she pulled on his hair. "I mean... not that I would ever taunt them, Kaoru-dono... could you let go, de gozaru...?"  


Her mother had sung to her, occasionally. Kioku lacked a good voice to go with the songs that she sang, so her "bedtime lullabies" were rather underappreciated. After a few years she gave up, and graduated to the patented goodnight kiss. That went over much better, although it wasn't able to hide the dark silence. At least an off-key song was better than the monster growls under the tatami.

It wasn't long after Kenji's birth that she began experimenting with her own voice. She sung softly to him as he slept, when he woke up screaming with that amazingly loud voice - she couldn't imagine where he could have gotten it from, until Yahiko told her, quite bluntly - and even when he settled down to eat, although her words sometimes cracked with uncomfortable winces. He had certainly inherited his father's strength.

Kenshin never sang to him, of course. Taunting ballads of war didn't seem to catch the ear of their young son - not that Kaoru found the song appropriate anymore, and not that Kenji would do anything more than wail and pull his father's hair, anyway. She did notice, however, that Kenshin had stopped humming when he did laundry. Although he had a tendancy to whistle the songs she sang to Kenji at night - and was terribly bad at it. Finally, he stopped altogether; Kaoru tried hard to understand why and, when she couldn't, remembered what it was like when he did sing. Wishful thinking was never a crime, at least not for her.  
  
**~*~**

This chapter's original title was "Music".

Clarus: Thanks, um, I think. ^_^ I'll try to make Kaoru tolerable, while still keeping her in character. And we all know how difficult that can be...


	4. Chapter 4 Sneezing

Kendo no Go  
In The Language of Kendo  
A Fanfic in 100 Chapters  
Akai Kitsune  
~*~  
4) Sneezing  
~*~

Someone is talking about you.

_ 'Wonderful,' _Kaoru thought with a tight frown, rubbing the skin beneath her nose in irritation. _'As if today hasn't been hard enough as it is...'_

She hadn't been sick for a long time. As a child, there had been plenty of illnesses passing through Tokyo; some she had managed to avoid, and others she had experienced herself. But in her time alone, she had somehow kept herself reasonably healthy._ 'Well, I'm not about to get sick now,'_ she scowled with no small amount of vehemence. _'Not when I'm just beginning to work again.'_

She turned back to her first student, who was happily making faces at her and mocking her supposed "illness", and she had no doubts who it was exactly that was talking about her.

For once Kaoru ignored Yahiko's foolishness and glanced outside to see her husband, carelessly washing the laundry yet again. He himself had always been relectant to speak of his own past sicknesses - or any aspect of his childhood, for that matter - but she could relate that back to his family; she had managed to choke out of him once, long ago, his parents' fate, and his life before he began training with his master. It had been brief and sad, but in the end, he had smiled at her and said it didn't matter, even if it really did. So, failing to get anything else from him - and not wanting to make him feel unhappy - she no longer asked about his past. Yahiko himself had warned her about that; no matter what was in the past, there will always be some regrets.  


Yahiko had been sick, for the first time since he had come to live with them, just a few years back. She wrinkled her nose in distaste at the memory. He had been absolutely intolerable, loudly calling out demands and whining constantly about his pitiful, delicate condition, and how he couldn't possibly do any chores that day. He had worn Kenshin ragged, moving back and forth between his own chores and treating the poor, self-proclaimed invalid. By the end of the day, when she had returned from training at the dojo across town, Kenshin had looked worse off than Yahiko, and both had earned a swift reprimand - Kenshin for allowing himself to be taken advantage of so easily, and Yahiko for being so selfish. The next day, Yahiko had felt better, of course. Kenshin had slept in, and it was so unusual that Kaoru didn't bother to wake him. Instead, she had punished Yahiko's inconsiderate actions from the previous day by making breakfast herself. By the time the morning lessons were done, she had found Kenshin in the front yard, doing laundry yet again, and neither of them had spoken of how he had overslept, although he seemed both guilty and grateful.  


The first time Kenji was sick, Kaoru had been in a panic. She had been prepared to send a letter to Megumi in Aizu without hesitation, although the child's fever was mild, but Kenshin - always the more conventional one and certainly not someone who easily panicked - gently eased her fears and told her that Genzai-sensei would certainly be enough to heal their son. Sure enough, after a few days, the fever was dismissed and Kenji had gone back to his usual - although much louder and having the knowledge of how much attention being sick will get you - self. And, of course, Kaoru felt embarrassed and sheepish at her unreasonable, momentary fears. Kenshin had just smiled and shrugged it off. He was probably more amused than anything else.  
  
~*~

Note: The original title of this chapter was "Sickness".


	5. Chapter 5 Otoko

Kendo no Go  
In The Language of Kendo  
A Fanfic in 100 Chapters  
Akai Kitsune  
~*~  
5) Otoko  
~*~  
  
**man, otoko n. 1. a human being, specif., ****_a)_**** a primate (****_Homo sapiens_****) characterized by an erect stance, an opposable thumb, the ability to make and use specialized tools, articulate speech, and a well-developed brain capable of abstract thought, ****_b)_**** a member of any extinct species of this family [Neanderthal ****_man_****]. 2. mankind; the human race. 3. an adult male person. 4. ****_a) _****a male servant, subordinate, or employee, ****_b)_**** a member of the military, esp. a rank-and-file soldier or sailor. 5. ****_a)_**** a husband,****_ b) _****a lover or suitor. 6. a person possessing qualities generally regarded as manly, such as strength, courage, etc. See also MAN ABOUT TOWN, MAN-EATER, MANHUNT, MAN-OF-WAR, MANSLAYER.  
**  
"Kenshin no baka!"

"Oro!"

After she thought about it, Kaoru resented Yahiko's remark even more than she initially had. Certainly it carried a slight amount of truth, but it was no reason for him to be rude - or so blunt.

_ "Busu! You're more manly than Kenshin is!"_

Her dignity - and her pride, as a woman and as a wife whose husband had just been insulted - stinging, she had comforted herself by giving Yahiko severe lessons for the day and, naturally, Kenshin's chores to follow up with. Her husband, having nothing to do and feeling quite lost about it, was sent out of the dojo, subtlely warned that he had better find something manly to do, if he knew what was good for him.

_ 'Well, what's wrong with being stronger than the average housewife?'_ she had fumed to herself. Somewhat similarly, as he was dragged reluctantly off by Sanosuke - during one of his impromptu return visits to Japan - to enjoy a man's night out - Kenshin was wondering what was wrong with doing laundry and cooking meals for his family. They certainly complained loudly enough when he _wasn't_ cooking. But, as usual, there was no arguing with Kaoru; she ran the household like a sheepdog ordering around a flock, which only further proved Yahiko's theory.

_ 'Although I can't exactly tell her that,'_ he thought with a wince, favouring his sore head and quietly climbing out of the hole in the shoji she had flung him through, as punishment for his latest act of domestic helpfulness. _'I suppose I ought to find a job or something... maybe that would make her happier...'_

So, after gathering his courage - not because he was afraid, or anything; it was simply what heroes do before they face a particularly difficult task - he made his way down to the police headquarters to contact the chief. He made himself available to favours, missions, and requests that the government was too lazy to deal with - but in much more eloquently chosen words; he had spent four years of his life around negotiators, after all - and found that there was a lot more the government didn't want to deal with than they let on. He took all sorts of missions, some with a certain lanky, bamboo-screen headed policeman, some where he worked on his own, and sometimes with people he didn't know. Most of them were far away from home, and now that he actually _had_ a home, he found that leaving it to travel was much harder than it used to be.

Kaoru didn't like these missions much either, and while the money was nice - they did have a growing boy waiting at home - it would have been much nicer, in her opinion, to have a father around to teach the boy things, like cooking meals for his pretty, hardworking mother and doing her laundry so she could wear her silk kimono to the sweets stand with her friends. At least, that would have been nice if the child was able to do _anything_ with his father other than wail and pull on his hair. _'No wonder Kenshin cut it short,'_ she thought ruefully at times.

So Kenshin worked, and Kaoru moped, and Kenji wailed, and in the end, they weren't much happier. But none of them mentioned anything, so the others thought everything was all right. Maybe it was.  
  
~*~

Note: The original title of this chapter was "Man" (which is what otoko translates into, of course!).


	6. Chapter 6 Within

Kendo no Go  
In The Language of Kendo  
A Fanfic in 100 Chapters  
Akai Kitsune  
~*~  
6) Within  
~*~

"Kenshin," Kaoru had said to him very seriously one day, when she caught him doing Yahiko's neglected chores again, "You're too kind for your own good, sometimes."

For days, he had agonized over that statement. _Too kind._ How can one be too kind? Is caring for others such a crime now, that too much of it would get you into trouble? It didn't make any sense to him. Although when his kindness was mistaken for something else, it often seemed to earn him no small amount of pain from Kaoru's bokken... perhaps that was what it meant.

You think too much. You work too often. You're too quiet.

_You fight too hard against what you need to have to live._

That one always hurt him, somehow, even though it was from his own head - or heart - and not Kaoru's. It wasn't so much that he fought against it... he just didn't know how to respond to it.

That's all.

Right?  


He didn't care much when people pushed him around. They could throw things at him, make him look like a fool, anything they liked. If he hadn't tolerated that, he would not have married someone like Kaoru. But above all else, he hated when people tried to harm those he loved.

_You fight too hard for what you need to love._

There wasn't much depth to him, people must have thought. There was only the idiot, the fool, the smiling, laughing, rurouni exterior that everyone mocked and used for their amusement. Which was fine, since in a way it amused him as well. To see others with their opinions so clearly on their faces. To see them laugh and walk away, thinking he was beaten, when all the while he was laughing to himself and thinking - although the laughter stopped at this - how he could have killed any one of them a hundred times already. Lucky them, he thought wryly, recalling his sword. His vow. The laughter would always stop.

No, there wasn't much depth to him, certainly not on the outside, where people were watching. He had very thick skin. But skin can only go so far before the heart is open and bleeding for the world to see. Skin can only protect you from so much.

Sometimes, skin can be broken and, of course, left to bleed.

_ 'You can only bleed so much before you dro_wn.'  


Kenshin liked visiting the Akabeko with Kaoru, even though he often felt uncomfortable in a public place, where everyone could see him. He never spoke of it - he refused to ruin her good moods - but he had always been afraid of being recognized. There had been far too many confrontations regarding his identity in his past life, though most had occurred closer to Kyoto.

He hated the fact that he was so different, so distinct - not only with the scar, but his hair, as well - that made it annoyingly easy for even the most ignorant citizen to realize who he was. Strangely enough, it was those two startling traits that everyone else - including himself - could only curse, that made Kaoru so attached to him. She was vehement anytime he mentioned changing his hair, which explained her initial fury at his haircut. He couldn't understand why, but half the things she did were beyond him, anyway.

It was surprising, how many drunks seemed to frequent the Akabeko when they visited. _'Tae must be going out of her mind, having to deal with this,' _he often thought with a mild smile. As long as they didn't get violent, they were endured.

Sometimes they did get violent, though, and he was forced to intervene. At least, he tried to; most of the time, Yahiko and Sanosuke jumped at the chance to have a free-for-all. The most action he had ever gotten was a sake bottle - still full, he remember ruefully - smashed over his head. He also remembered Kaoru's concerned, annoyed face staring down at him, loudly demanding to know if he was all right.

"Of course," he had replied with a bright smile, even though his ears were ringing, and he was certain there was a chunk of glass still attached to his scalp, "I'm just fine, Kaoru-dono."

Her eyes narrowed, and she pulled him up with one quick motion that set his head spinning. "Then do something! You can't let people do that to you! _Do something_!"

He shrugged, without the antagonism she sought from him. "Do what?" he replied, very quietly.

She never answered him. He supposed it was too complex for him to understand, as usual. The important things, the things he needed to understand, were always the ones that he never would, no matter how he tried.  
  
~*~

Note: The original title of this chapter was "Deep".

Reviewer Responses:

Clarus: Um, no... I'm not going to incorporate any yaoi into this fic, mostly because I know too little about the subject to make any romance half-decent. ^_^;; You'll have to forgive me, as I'm a traditionalist with my fic pairings. And yes, I can tell you hate Kaoru... I hope you don't mind her presence in this fic too much, because she's going to be in it a lot...

EK: Yes, I am going to make it 100 chapters.. if I survive that long, ^_^ (that is, if my beta-reader doesn't kill me for writing this instead of my other major fic, LSRV). Apparently Clarus is going to throw a party if I make it that far. Everyone who reviews the story is invited! (bwahaha...)

April-san: I love making subtle insults to any of the characters, and Saitou was my victim there. I hope to add more of those in the future. Please look forward to it...

Thanks for reading!  
~AK


	7. Chapter 7 Yasashi

Kendo no Go  
In The Language of Kendo  
A Fanfic in 100 Chapters  
Akai Kitsune  
~*~  
7) Yasashi  
~*~

"I've never loved anyone as much as I love you."

Kenshin had never answered her words, Kaoru often thought back with a small, envious frown. Certainly not directly; his response had been to tilt his head down, where she had been leaning her body against his chest, and kiss her, tenderly and for a long time. When he broke away, a sad smile on his face and a glowing love in his eyes, she had been too dazed by the power he always carried with him to realize that he hadn't said anything back. Not even a weakly comparative, _"I've loved someone else more, but you're okay, too."_

Of course, he was smarter than that, she scolded herself. At least he loved her enough to keep any comments he had to himself, leaving it to her imagination.

She couldn't blame him for having loved before she met him; it was not as if they should have been saving themselves for only each other. As if he had known that he would meet and fall in love with her. _'If he even did,' _she sometimes despaired, knowing that his kindness might go so far as to marry rather than face her broken heart, caused by rejection. But the pure feeling in his embrace, the need in his kiss... wasn't that love? Maybe she was too hard on him. He deserved better, for all he had been through.

Watching him as he cleaned the bathhouse rather late one day, she suddenly took note of the empty dojo - Yahiko was working, and she had somehow managed to convince Sano to take Kenji for the evening, after explicitly warning him to steer clear of any gambling joints, or else - and approached him, a slightly imploring expression on her face. Sensing her coming, he turned and noticed, beneath the pout, that she wore the most wicked smile. Smiling slightly - though somewhat embarrassed - he didn't resist as she dragged him into their bedroom and slid the shoji closed behind them.  


Afterwards, as she brushed her fingers through his fire-bright hair, she heard him murmur sleepily, "Tomoe used to do that." She pulled. Hard. "Ow."

"What about Tomoe?" she said testily.

"Koishii, do we have to argue about this? Are you angry with me?" Her fingers withdrew from his hair. "Ah."

Kaoru wrapped her arms around herself, sulking. "Why do you compare me to her? It's hard enough dealing with perfection when you _don't_ talk about it."

He blinked. "She was _not_ perfect."

"Was too."

"Koishii, _she's_ the one who jumped in front of my sword."

Kaoru considered this. "Okay, so she wasn't a genius with weapons. But she could cook!"

A dreamy smile spread its way across Kenshin's face. "She sure could..."

She shoved a pillow in his mouth. "Oh, shut up!"

He fell into silence for a long time, until finally he murmured quietly into her ear, "She was too soft for me, koishii."

"Hm?" Her anger fading slightly in the face of her curiousity, she turned back to him. "What do you mean?"

He smiled sadly, averting his eyes. "She was too soft. I was a hitokiri back then... just a manslayer who knew nothing about love, or even simple living. I was murderer who brought her home with me because I didn't know what else to do. Yes, she could cook, and she could take care of the house like a true lady... but she couldn't teach me how to be a proper husband to her. And I'm a very slow learner, you know. At that time, I had no other skills besides that of assassination."

"_Kenshin_," she warned softly, against his words and the memories it brought into his eyes.

He murmured an apology, but forged on without fear or hesitation. "She was wise, and very kind to me, even though at times she seemed harsh. But I was too hard on her... too cold, too cruel. In the end, she was far too soft to survive with someone like me."

"Kenshin!"

He didn't bother to apologize again. "I chose you, not because I love you more, or because I was afraid of how much a rejection would hurt you, but because I needed someone who would fight back. Someone who wasn't afraid of what I could do - as a husband, as the controlling figure of the entire household, whether I wanted to or not. I needed someone who didn't know who I truly am, so they wouldn't fear me or loathe me. I loved Tomoe; I love her still, and part of me always will. But I did not love her fear, and in you," he placed a soft kiss on her forehead, lingering above to catch the scent of her hair, "I can feel nothing but the strength you have always carried. Please, don't be angry for wanting to hold onto my love for both of you."

She gazed back at him, her face flushed, and she nodded silently, curving her neck into the crook of his shoulder and closing her eyes. She was determined to _not_ be angry; and she really couldn't begrudge his past choices. After all... if her only competition was dead, what was there to complain about? If it was only with a grave and a memory... she could share.

She wasn't _that_ hard on him.  
  
~*~

Note: The original title of this chapter was "Soft" (Yasashi).

Review Responses:

Clarus: Glad you like it... and I think that one of the tragedies of shounen-ai is that there is so little focus on the actual relationship, and too much focus on the two characters getting it on. I'm sure I wouldn't mind it so much if it weren't always revolving around sex. That drives me absolutely mad sometimes. But part of me also just wants to deny Kenshin and Sano ever getting into that sort of relationship, ^_^;; that's just my preference.


	8. Chapter 8 Itadakimasu

Kendo no Go  
In The Language of Kendo  
A Fanfic in 100 Chapters  
Akai Kitsune  
~*~  
8) Itadakimasu  
~*~

Kaoru loved to eat. More importantly, she loved to eat good food.

"Marry a man who loves you, Kaoru-chan," her mother had warned her very seriously, long ago when she was still a little child and too young to understand how the world worked - which was why Kioku told her, of course. "Get married to someone whom you can really feel like spending the rest of your life with."

Kaoru had, naturally, questioned the love between Kioku and her father, but the older woman had simply smiled and told her to finish eating her rice. Which she did; she liked rice. With soya sauce. And green tea-flavoured desserts.  


She would never - not for a million yen, although something like that would be tempting with a family such as hers - say that she married for the love of her husband's food, but she would admit - for a lesser price, perhaps - that his skills were at least one of the things that drew her in. Particularly when one considered her own culinary prowess. How a former assassin had gained better cooking skills than someone who was good friends with a restaurant owner, she couldn't tell, but Kenshin was always able to surprise her, so she tried hard not to dwell on things like that. It wasn't as if she could ask him - at least, not like that. Something told her that he would not like to explain after _that_ question.

Another thing that often puzzled her was how happy he was to cook. He was never asked to cook... it began on his first morning at the dojo, and besides a few failed attempts on her part, he had cooked their meals ever since. It may have seemed odd, for the man of the house to assume _all_ domestic responsibility, but it worked for them. It wasn't as if Kenshin had any skills to find a job with. At least, not a job he was willing to accept. And no one in the house wanted him to work, anyway. His cooking was certainly better than the alternative - and even Kaoru was ready to admit that.  


In fact, the only thing that Kenji seemed to actually like about his father was the meals he cooked. When he was old enough to eat solid foods, he was fascinated at how interesting it became when it was nothing more than a pile of discoloured goo. He enjoyed spreading that same goo all over everything - himself, his parents, the room - and was determined to do every possible thing with it besides it's original purpose... that is, to be eaten. It was amusing, to say the least; rather, it was amusing the first few times. After the laughter had died down, and Kenji was peaceably sleeping in his room, Kaoru was certain that her husband did _not_ appreciate seeing his hard work decorating the floor. He was never vocal about it - it was Kenshin, after all - but she easily recognized the flat, unhappy glint in his eyes as he knelt and scrubbed the hardwood to perfection. Later, she often asked him if he was all right, and he would smile, and shrug, and say simply, "Kenji is happy. Why should I not be?" And it would be left at that.

Why _shouldn't_ he be happy? Their child was smiling, something he rarely did in his father's presence. That alone should be reason enough to feel some joy. Yet she couldn't shake off her uneasiness, her grief, whenever she saw him hunched over the spattered food, his body moving back and forth as he cleaned, to hide the brief, stricken shivers of misery and tears.  
  
~*~

Note: The original chapter title was "Eating"; Itadakimasu is a phrase used when one is about to eat, meaning "Thank you for the meal".


	9. Chapter 9 Yama

Kendo no Go  
In The Language of Kendo  
A Fanfic in 100 Chapters  
Akai Kitsune  
~*~  
9) Yama  
~*~

Kaoru didn't like the mountains very much. She was always wary of them, so vast and high above her, the trail long, and the goal unrewarding. She felt this way for a long time - although it mostly stemmed from a particular mountain near the city of Kyoto. The mountain that Kenshin nearly died on, fighting someone who should never have been alive in the first place.

It scared her; the thought of him facing a madman alone - even with Sano and the policeman she had yet to trust - and the possibility that he might not return. Or, if he returned, he would not be alive to accept her greeting. It scared her to think that there was someone out there in the world that could match him in skill, ability, and strength.

It scared her to think about a life without him.

Kioku would have called her foolish, she was sure of it. "Marry a man you can love," she had said. "A man who loves you." Yet she was distrustful of soldiers, other than her own husband. She did not like the idea of living under the same roof as a man who fought for a living; an assassin was something she would not have tolerated.

Although Kenshin wasn't an assassin anymore, his past wasn't something easily erased. Even Kaoru, who claimed to not care at all, had to admit that. After all, how could she forget, when his eyes spoke as a reminder of it every day? He would smile, cheerfully and full of joy, but there was always a slight restraint in that same smile, a darkness and a deep sorrow in his eyes. She often wondered about what he must have been thinking of, to carry such a sadness inside at all times. Even as he had turned to her, bright and full of confidence, and responded with ease, "Yes, we'll all go back to Tokyo together."

Actions speak louder than words, yet they are always so much harder to carry out. He nearly died that night; nearly broke his first real promise to her. He nearly shattered her heart into a million irreplaceable pieces, even if it wasn't really his fault. Certainly not his fault that he was the only obstacle in a madman's quest to tear apart their country, something her brave rurouni couldn't allow at any cost. Not after all he had done to create their current era.

No, Kenshin had accepted that challenge, and he had paid the price. Everyone had been faithful, so trusting. "Kenshin will come back." But not under his own power: Sano had been forced to carry him back, unconscious and still bleeding heavily. Only the skills of the doctors of Kyoto - and Megumi, when she finally arrived - saved his life, and kept his promise to her.

_We'll all go back._ And that faith, that trust, had faded in the moonlight, as his life seemed to ebb from his body and onto the ground as he lay, dying, fighting to live, even as his body cried, _enough, enough, I have fought enough on this day._

But there were other mountains to climb, other obstacles to face. Mount Ueno, where Yukishiro Enishi announced his final vengence for the murder of his sister. Enishi himself, who stood in the way of everything they had fought for to hold Kenshin to their family. And then, of course, there was hesitation itself, as he struggled with his own thoughts of what their future should hold. He was stained, scarred, guilty, too dirty for her.

_Kenshin no baka._

She wondered vaguely if he ever grew sick of her verbal abuse. Sometimes she was a little harsh - although he did deserve it, mostly - but often she couldn't really help it. It was his fault for not listening to her, anyway.

But then she wondered if Tomoe had ever hit him. If she ever called her quiet, amber-eyed husband an idiot. She doubted it.

Tomoe seemed perfect. She was capable of everything a wife was expected to do - in fact, she probably did everything Kenshin did in their family. Kaoru hated that; hated that his past wife could do more than she could. How was she supposed to compare with that?

_ "She was _not_ perfect."_

_ 'Okay, so Kenshin doesn't feel that way,'_ Kaoru sighed to herself as she moped, experimenting with her latest cooking endeavour. _'But he always says things to make me feel better! She may not have been perfect, but she was better than me...'_

_ 'But I'm still alive... iie, that's not fair at all...'_

Her own fears and niggling doubts seemed like mere molehills compared to his past. She couldn't understand how he made things appear to be so easy - through his smile, his casual attitude, his rare, yet heartfelt laughter - when to her, it seemed as if a man carrying the memories that he did would feel the pain of it, constantly.

_ 'He does, though,' _she reminded herself with a tight frown. _'He tries so hard to hide it, but now that I know him so much better... I can tell how he feels...'_

_ 'But never... never what he thinks...'_

She often found it frustrating, how he could leave his heart open to the world, but at the same time close his mind so tightly that no one could catch even a glimpse of his thoughts. But what could she do? She was simply one part of his life, one section of his soul - 'And an important part, if he knows what's good for him!' - and there would always be a portion of his heart that forever denied her access.

And... that was all right. So long as he was with her, it would be all right.  
  
~*~  
The original title of this chapter was Mountain (translated into yama).

Clarus: I like to please the readers if it's possible, and Kaoru is hard to write without making her overly violent or annoying, so I'm glad that you don't seem to like her - that way, if you keep reading despite her strong presence within the fic, I know I'm writing decently! Hm. And I did say I knew basically nothing about shounen-ai/yaoi in general, so thank you for clearing that up, ^_^


	10. Chapter 10 Dojo

Kendo no Go  
In The Language of Kendo  
A Fanfic in 100 Chapters  
Akai Kitsune  
~*~  
10) Dojo  
~*~

The Kamiya dojo was built long before the war, but it wasn't until much later that it reopened for public use. In the past, Koshijirou had used it simply for practice, after his own father died and the dojo had been closed. The old building carried a great deal of memories for the family, and Kaoru loved it with every fiber of her being.

There had been many changes in the household after Kenshin had come to live there, bringing with him a string of unexpected friends and enemies - or some enemies who later _became_ friends - but it had mostly to do with how clean it suddenly became. Kenshin was very effective at taking care of her home; so effective, in fact, that she began to wonder at how she had managed without him. He did a great deal of general washing while she taught at other schools to keep the income flowing.

And repair work, of course. After Kenshin's arrival, the dojo had needed a great deal of repairs. Although he was usually incapable of making those repairs, himself. She tried hard not to think of that fact very often.

After the chaotic events that were followed by such repairs, Kaoru was often forced to return to the kitchen and make their meals, while her boarder recovered from his usual injuries. She did so in the hopes of giving him a chance to rest and relax... but naturally, her efforts were rewarded by Yahiko and Sanosuke's disgust, which prompted her to retaliate - loudly, as was expected of her - so he never really got any sleep. But he appreciated her attempts, at least. He would smile, and thank her quietly, then go back to the laundry, or whatever chore he had abandoned when his life had been in danger in the first place. And life would go on, until the next time.

There was always a next time, it seemed. Since he decided to remain in one place for such a long time, his identity released to the public through loose tongues and rumours, his past finally had a chance to track him down and make an attempt on whatever plot they had been hatching for the years when he had been traveling too quickly for anyone to discover him. She always carried a small amount of guilt for that; for holding him in one area, for keeping him with her - selfishly - so that others were able to reach him. Every wound he gained in a fight he could have avoided made her heart ache.

But still, he smiled. He smiled, and thanked her - _for hurting him, again and again?_ - and life went on, and on, and on.

  
The dojo had been rebuilt several times, and each time she saw it destroyed, she felt a pang of remorse. Her family dojo, her father's dojo, and it was torn apart each time a battle tore through their home. It wasn't as often as she fantasized - only a few times had the dojo really been sent to the ground in pieces - but she always made a quick prayer to her father for forgiveness afterwards. She apologized for accepting her new family into her life; for bringing destruction to their home yet again by allowing them to stay for so long; for having the compassion - would that be a weakness, in his calm, stern eyes? - to share her life with theirs. Although, she never felt truly sorry for accepting them, and never allowed her anger to banish them from her doorstep; she loved them, needed them too much to let them go. They were her family, and she wanted them to stay with her, always.  


It was not long after the dojo had been destroyed and rebuilt for its final time - Enishi's jinchuu, and her supposed death that made everyone consider how much else was more important than the training ground - that she was finally forced to let them go. Megumi, her verbal sparring partner and good friend, despite their differences, left her temporary home of Tokyo to live in Aizu in search of her family, casually waving farewell to her friends and the man she must have loved, in some way, whether it was her Kenshin, or even Sanosuke, though it would have killed either one of them to admit it.

That same day, Sanosuke disappeared into the wider world, chased away by a government official and an assault charge which Kenshin had easily dismissed once he discovered the reasons behind it. She often wondered why Sanosuke had never told them, for surely Kenshin could have used his contacts and past allies to resolve it... but that would have been a wound in the ex-gangster's pride, surely. He knew how much Kenshin's past was painful, even if is was useful at times. Still, Kaoru had seen the brief flicker of hurt in her husband's eyes when he learned the truth. If Sano was so fierce about making Kenshin come to rely on him, why shouldn't that relationship be mutual? What did the man hold higher, his own pride, or the trust the two of them had carried, from Kyoto and beyond?

But Kenshin had smiled, despite that knowledge, and had calmly dealt with the situation. "Sanosuke will come back on his own when he is ready," he told her quietly, and hadn't spoken of it again. There would always be pain, sometimes hesitation, but he refused to allow it to hurt their friendship. He was not that sort of man.

After her marriage to Kenshin, Kaoru suddenly found the house to be very empty, late in the day. Yahiko moved out and began residing in Sanosuke's old home, driven away from their newly married antics and the temporary unwillingness to accept their abrupt, "disgusting" affection for one another. She sometimes grimaced at his tactless comments, but was restrained by Kenshin's observations. "He's not used to this," he whispered, one day when Yahiko had disappeared mere moments after he had caught them kissing in the hallway. "Give him time, and he'll return. He's genuinely happy for us, I think... he just doesn't want to intrude."

Since when had her friends become an intrusion upon her life?

She missed the days where she had woken up to a cold bucket of water over her head, Yahiko's grinning demands loud in her ear. She missed waking to Kenshin's breakfast - now a daily occurrence - only to discover that half of her portion was stuffed in Sanosuke's mouth. She even missed Megumi's mocking laughter, as she playfully tugged at Kenshin's arm to serve _her_ breakfast, rather than the tanuki-girl's.

She missed the arguments, the tears, the friendship and the pure togetherness of their past life.

Her home was empty, it seemed sometimes. For even when Yahiko came over every afternoon for lessons, even when Tae and Tsubame came to visit and coo over the toddler with her eyes and Kenshin's hair, even when a letter arrived from Aizu or god-knows-wherever-Sanosuke-is-now, her husband was silent, peaceful, and smiling. He would smile, and watch over their own smiles, despite the fact that no one ever really came to see him, unless it was a mission that would take him away from that joy, that scene of pure bliss he had always envisioned. He smiled, despite the knowledge that he wasn't getting any younger, even while his son grew older, and would someday be old enough to leave their home and he, too, would visit only to see Kaoru and not the father he despised.

He smiled, despite the deep sense of loneliness echoing throughout the dojo that used to be so full, so happy, even when it lay in pieces on the ground.  
  
~*~

The original title of this chapter was "House".


	11. Chapter 11 Shades

Kendo no Go  
In The Language of Kendo  
A Fanfic in 100 Chapters  
Akai Kitsune  
~*~  
11) Shades  
~*~  
  
The colour of hell isn't really a colour at all. It is actually no more than a shade, an amaranthine darkness tempered by torches that give no warmth - physical or simply comforting to the heart - to those who find themselves there, but serve only to present to them a picture of their surroundings. It shows those unfortunate souls what awaits them when the darkness recedes; the pain, the longing, the emptiness of eternity.

Or perhaps hell is lighter; pure as white-washed bones, excluding the dark, gaping holes for the mouths and eyes of the skulls that litter the ground. A carpet of bones, piles and piles of the dead, hands stretching out to grasp those above, reaching forever for a wisp of the life they once had.

Maybe it is red; burning fires of crimson exploding from the stained rivers that flowed across the endless plains, reaching up towards the scarlet-tinged skies and the ember sun, made of flames stronger than any other. The air is foggy and blurred with violent stormclouds, and as the wind blows, the rains fall, acidic and the dark, heavy colour of blood. The rain washes over everything, staining the lost souls until all they can see, all they can smell, is the overwhelming, intoxicating scent of the dead —  
  
  
He came awake with a start, a terrified scream on his tongue and eyes wide as sake cups, body shooting forward to a sitting position. The shout died at his lips, but he couldn't restrain the short, gasping breaths as he tried to recover from the dreams that left him shaken.

It had been worse than usual, that night. He sent a quick glance to the woman lying beside him, and was comforted a little when he saw that she was still sleeping. He would never have forgiven himself for allowing his troubles to disturb her rest, especially after a long day of teaching.

Slowly, he eased himself back, resting his weight on one palm and brushing the other hand across his sweat-slick forehead. After a long moment he pulled away, gazing down at his damp fingers, and gathered his feet below him, resting on his knees to regain his balance before standing, legs shaky and hesitant. He had only taken one step before Kaoru called back to him, her voice sleepy and concerned.

"Kenshin?"

He closed his eyes, pained and unwilling to turn back and show her a smile he knew to be false. "It's all right, Kaoru. Go back to sleep; I'll return soon."

He disappeared from the room, shoji sliding shut behind him, hoping against hope that she would not follow. He waited outside their bedroom until he was certain she was not going to rise, then headed for the kitchen.  
  
  
It was spring, a year after his arrival at the Kamiya dojo, and the flowers were blooming. Kaoru loved spring; she would dance and laugh as blossoms fell around her like feathery white rain, her sparkling blue eyes shining with delight. He watched her, a soft smile on his own face, and he gratefully accepted the fistful of flowers she sometimes placed in his hand, whispering for him to hold onto them. After a while, she would tire of it, and she would take his hand to go home, not even noticing as he carelessly discarded the petals, nor noticing the deeply etched pain he hid in his eyes as the scent of those flowers swirled around him. She never noticed how he buried his hands into the laundry as soon as they arrived home, washing the clothes, the dirt, and the smell of _her_ from his skin.  
  
  
Kaoru watched him from the doorway, her eyes unsure and filled with tears, as his hands went down, up, down again, rubbing together, the water clear and flawless in the bucket below them. He stared into the water as he washed, his own eyes glazed and unfocused, empty of any emotions. The water sloshed noisily when he thrust his hands into it yet again, scratching the wrinkling skin against the wood. His hands were raw and burning red, but the colour only seemed to make his motion all the more concentrated, all the more desperate. The movements were calm, almost robotic, and it seemed as if he had done it hundreds of times before.

Hundreds of times. Hundreds of deaths. Washing, always washing.

Steeling herself, she brushed a hand across her eyes and approached him, tiptoeing across the floor to avoid startling him. He must have known she was there - he always did - but he didn't even look up.

"Come to bed," she urged, touching his hand. He hesitated, memories filling his mind. Tomoe called to him, once.

_ "Are you going to go on killing people forever?"_

_ "Come to bed."_

Slowly, he loosened his white-knuckled grip around the bucket, and allowed her to lead him back to their room, where she wrapped her arms around him, holding his hands close to her heart.

Perhaps heaven is not a colour either, but the scent of jasmine, and white plums in springtime.  
  
~*~

This chapter's original title was "Black".

This chapter was partially inspired by Clarus's fic "White Plums", and the fanfic by Team Bonet, "Dream With Open Eyes". Both are beautiful, short glimpses at Kenshin's character at desperate moments of grief and memory, and I would really recommend reading them!  
  
And yes, I am aware that Tomoe says the same thing to Kenshin in my other fic, "Light of the Snow-Red Village". This is semi-intentional. ^_^


	12. Chapter 12 Silk

Kendo no Go  
In The Language of Kendo  
A Fanfic in 100 Chapters  
Akai Kitsune  
~*~  
12) Silk  
~*~

Kaoru owned very few extravagant clothing - she had been never one to impulsively waste her money on things she could rarely afford. She purchased softer, less expensive cotton, although the material was heavier and much warmer than she was comfortable with, particularly in summertime. She chose the tougher, more durable cloths for her training outfits, brushing her hands ever-so-gently across the formal, ceremonial uniforms which were terribly beautiful, and even more outrageously expensive, as if to catch a glimpse of how things would be, if she had more money, and so could indulge in such things.

She had but one fine silk kimono, beautiful and dark blue in colour, scattered with delicately sewn butterflies, that had once belonged to her mother. She never wore it, knowing how easily the world could be turned upside down by her new companions, not that she minded so much anymore. It remained in a trunk, protected from insects and dust and tears, to be brought out and admired, touched by callused hands and cried over - though never directly onto the material - but never worn.

She was content to live in that manner, dressing in plain colours and simple designs, small, repetitive shapes covering the material to soothe the boring nature of a single colour. Her obi was always tied modestly, usually unadorned with the opulent, choice motifs of an expensive seamstress or designer, but rather with the gentle hand of an older, more experienced and less wealthy tailor. It was those sort of clothes she enjoyed; the ones who worked with care, with familiarity, with love. Though simple, they still carried a beauty and an elegance that was envied by all who could understand it's true meaning.  


Kimonos were one thing; they were often pricy when it came the refined merit they often stood for. But ribbons... she could buy silk ribbons. Her favourite ribbon, one she had carried with her for years before her father died, was blue, indigo blue, the colour of her mother's kimono, having the same silky feeling across her skin when she tied it into her hair.

She had given that ribbon to Kenshin, vehemently demanding that he had better bring it back to her, if he knew what was good for him. She had barely been able to put up that strong front, knowing all the while that her tears would only make him feel guilty, although her anger rarely ever made her feel any better. He had taken a long moment to understand, but when he finally did, he had smiled casually, nodding in agreement, and she had felt the warm rush of relief fill her heart. It had not lasted long, but it had felt very, very good.

Although she wasn't certain whether it had felt better than chasing him through the streets of Tokyo the next morning, waving a bloody, ruined ribbon and ignoring his frantic apologies. She had much more important things on her mind - namely, getting her hands around the neck of one constantly-targeted tenant in her household.  


One day Kenshin asked her to accompany him while he went shopping, and she accepted easily enough. He surprised her, that afternoon, by taking her to a women's clothing shop and showing her the ribbons - the silk ribbons, beautiful and long and elegant. He told her, a soft, shy smile on his face, to choose a ribbon, any kind or colour at all, to not even look at the price, because it didn't matter. She asked him what it was all about, but when he replied, the smile had disappeared, making her feel slightly sick at her sudden recollection of that day.

"For your blue one," he murmured, eyes dark and pained. "For the one I ruined. I wanted to apologize, because it was your favourite, and you entrusted it to me... all because of the sort of person I am-" She knew what he meant, of course; a rurouni could not be trusted to come home on his own, certainly not when he placed those he knew in danger by doing so. "So... please, just make your choice. This is my payment to you... for everything." He turned away, disappearing from her view and moving closer towards the counter to wait for her.

_ "Thank you for everything..."_

_ "... and..."_

She had closed her eyes against the memory, of his "payment" that time. His embrace, brief as it had been, tore at her soul and made her wonder why she hadn't been able to run after him that time. But there were no ribbons, no stern remarks on how, if he did not return to her, she would never forgive him. There was nothing to hold him to her, nothing to convince him that her home was his home, now, and then, and forever.

She thought he had disappeared from her life forever.

Unconsciously, her hand reached out and fingered a ribbon without design, its colour plain and dark, although the material itself was fair and magnificent to the touch. She held it between her fingers for a long moment, studying the look and feel of it, visualizing it against the smooth ebony of her hair. Finally, smiling amply to herself, she plucked it off the rack and carried it to the counter, wrapping her arm boldly through Kenshin's and delighting in the surprised glance she received in response.

She was a bit startled, although pleasantly, that he neither pulled away or politely asked her to remove herself, but instead returned her smile and fumbled with his folded wallet, one arm restrained by her hand, to pay for the item. She was yet again amazed that he carried enough yen to pay for the item, penniless wanderer as he seemingly was, but he later explained the source of the money. Kyoto, yet again. He was grateful, however, that he had finally earned enough to replace her ruined hair decoration, and told her as much. Somehow, the dangers were long past and far less painful as they had been, now that something good had come of it. She couldn't hold back a smile at his words.

If he was hurt by the fact that she never wore her new ribbon, he did not show it... much. He hid things far too well, but she knew that whenever she left her room, for months after they had returned from their shopping trip, bearing miso, tofu, and an expensive token of repayment, he looked at her, his eyes casting on her hair for merely a flicker - to look, to see, and to dismiss so to avoid her questions - and smile, asking her how she was, and if she had had a good rest, and that he would be starting breakfast in just a few moments. He never asked her why, even though he must have been dying to know, and she ignored what she saw in his eyes those mornings, knowing that someday, if he ever figured everything else out, he would understand.  


On their wedding day, when at last she took out her mother's silk kimono and wore it, the intricate white butterflies fair and light against the colours that were fairly gleaming against her own pale body, the silk glistening and smooth across her skin, regardless of old calluses. She held herself tightly, imagining his arms around her, feeling the grace and beauty shine through her childishness, her clumsy, boyish actions. She wanted him to see her as a woman that day, as _his_ woman, and that even if she continued to teach and to wield a blade like a boy of the past, she would still be his, always his. She wanted him to see her that day and make an imprint of her image in his heart, in his soul.

On that day, when she approached him in her mother's kimono, her hair tied high and beautiful in a flawless, elegantly expensive ribbon, the colour of dark amethyst, he finally understood why she had never worn it before. He smiled back at her, his eyes glowing with love and some unreadable emotion, and reached out to take her hand, squeezing gently to show her that he knew, that despite all those unhappy mornings where he wondered why, he was grateful for what she had done.

She smiled back, just as brightly, and sent a quick, unvocalized apology to the fine silk clothing which would most likely find itself scattered across the floor that evening. But, to be honest, she had a feeling she wouldn't care either way.

~*~

*glares at Fanfiction.net* Well I was going to upload this for Valentine's Day, but since this pesky little FF split decided to occur, I had to wait. Yare yare...

The original title of this chapter was "Mutton" (big difference, ne?) but the subject (clothing) was still basically the same. I elaborated a little... that's what fanfics are for, after all. ^_^  
  
Oh, and if you're curious, the outfit Kaoru wore at the wedding does exist. On page 12 of the Kenshin Kaden, you can find a picture of Kenshin in a formal blue gi and white hanten, and Kaoru in that same blue kimono (with a violet ribbon, although the scanner for some reason didn't register the colour and instead made it blue...). It just looked to me like a wedding picture, so even if it isn't, I used it regardless. ^_^ If you want to see, paste this link into your browser:

http://www.akaikitsune.150m.com/kaden_p12.jpg

I would just give you the link straight out, but as my website is a free account, hotlinks don't work. Sucks, but what else can you do?

Reviewer Responses:

Clarus: Hm, well I mentioned you with Team Bonet because you both wrote such wonderful fics, ^_^ but I'm glad you're liking the fic. By the way, I've been reading some shounen-ai and finding that there are some lovely stories out there, so the idea is growing on me... just don't expect me to write it, myself. :P

More coming soon!

~Akai Kitsune


	13. Chapter 13 Soothe

Kendo no Go  
In The Language of Kendo  
A Fanfic in 100 Chapters  
Akai Kitsune  
~*~  
13) Soothe  
~*~  
  
Kenshin found himself hating a lot of things, after Tomoe died. He hated his job, his duty, when they carried him to the dirty brothels which often served as hidden meeting places for the rebellion leaders he had sworn to protect. He hated the smell of sweat, cheap perfume, smoke, and freshly spilled sake that garnered around him and spread throughout the room, seeping into his clothes and making his nose itch, his senses dull. He hated the girls that swarmed at all sides, fascinated by his soft, fragile-looking features, his hair, and his scar - though no one dared to touch it, he noticed.

He hated seeing fear in the eyes of the men who were supposed to trust him, although he had never trusted them. Not after being betrayed twice over.

In those brothels, waiting patiently as the men he worked for met, argued, finally agreed or disagreed - however the discussion went that night - and finally drunk themselves into a hazy, easily entertained stupour, he would watch them, and occasionally wonder how, exactly, they were to rule their proud country if they won the war.

_When they won._ His eyes narrowed. He had promised her... he would fight.

Even if he _did_ doubt the men he was depending on to help them win, and he didn't really feel guilty about that. How could one respect a man who argued all night, then vented his anger over jugs of alcohol, to drown the frustration? How could one watch such actions and not think that these men were not fit to rule over themselves, let alone a collective of people.  
But still, he followed them there, watched their playing and foolish revelry, and when the night was breaking and the watches of the Shinsengumi were changed, he led them back to the inn at which they were staying, thanking whatever gods existed that the men had enough sense to remain silent as they crept through the dangerous streets. He always savored an overwhelming feeling of relief when they arrived at their destination, safe and alive.  


He hated the brothels - when the women tried to draw him in, as if they could tame the fiery hitokiri of the Revolution - but more than anything, he hated being reminded of her. He often caught sight of a familiar hairstyle, tied low at the nape of a girl's neck and curled around, or cropped short at her mid-back. He saw endless numbers of white kimonos, violet shawls draped over slender, graceful bodies, dozens of pairs of dark, piercing eyes, watching in suspicion, wonder, fear. In spring, for three years, he often walked the streets of Kyoto alone at night, almost looking for her, for _something_, and his nose would catch the vague, yet unforgettable scent of plum blossoms, senses flaring with memories and the sharp ache of guilt. His heart was far too often overcome by the pain, and he fought to resist the urge to flee the alleyways and return to his latest temporary housing.

But there were memories everywhere, of course. By the window, when he curled up against the sill to sleep at night, his hand gripping the hilt of his katana, he would recall the day he awoke, startled out of a listless sleep with a sword at her neck. In the kitchen or the dining areas, he remembered the tactless comments of Iizuka - another traitor, one he had allowed into his presence as easily as Tomoe herself, though this time by order - when Tomoe had first appeared, her beautiful face a view admired audibly by all, save him. In the yard he visualized blooming flowers - sold by the girl who had greeted them cheerfully on the road to Otsu - and pomegranates - noticed first by a smiling Katsura after a strained discussion about the traitor, even as the man stood mere feet away - or even, cringing as he saw it, the dark bamboo umbrella, resting against the porch, covered in the blood of the ninja corpse he had left at her feet. When he left for his missions, her shawl wrapped protectively around his neck, in summer heat or winter cold, he felt her warm arms against his skin. Upon his return, the silky cloth, stained a dark, brownish red in certain areas - her blood, his blood, forever reminding - was curled around the hilt and tsuba of his katana, to hold him back, to be his sheath, as she had promised him to be.

_"You need a sheath..."_

His hands twitched in sleep, possessive and haunted, the only sign of distress on the normally impassive young hitokiri.

_ "To suppress the madness..."_

Madness... what an eloquently chosen word. She had succeeded, and failed, at the same time; for, even as she had gained his trust, his love, and softened the dark, murderous insanity within his mind, her death had nearly thrown him beyond all salvation.

Her memories were driving him mad.

Kaoru never really noticed the nightmares, at least until their marriage. She slept on, unknowing; or rather, he hoped she remained unknowing. He hated to disturb her, whether she was down the hall or at his side.

He remembered dreading the moments immediately prior to consciousness, when the fear and hopelessness surrounded him, threatening to close in and crush him, shatter his bones and break down any resistance he might hold against it. When he felt himself reaching out, fingers outstretched and struggling to escape his prison of self-recrimination and grief. When he took his last breath, falling into darkness, and the cessation of agony that helped him to know that he was still alive, then finally breaking free, snapping awake with the smell of blood in his nostrils and the remnant of fear in his eyes.

She never really noticed until one night he woke up screaming her name.

_ "... madness..."_

She had always done her best to soothe his nightmares, banish the lingering fears he still carried with him, even after so long. It must have helped him somehow, to have have warm arms wrapped around his shivering body, gentle fingers stroking his hair, quiet whispers that it would be all right, he would be all right, if he'd only listen and settle down and just go back to sleep.

But comfort could only help so much, could only carry so far into his subconscious thoughts to do any good. Her words, her touch, could only go as far as he allowed them to.

Sometimes she couldn't reach him at all, and he would stare at nothing, hours at a time, remembering things she could only imagine, never really wanted or dared to. Sometimes he cried, not even noticing the tears that slipped down his cheeks.

Most of the time, she cried with him, calling his name in soft, begging tones, praying that he would come back and show her that, really, he was all right, and there was nothing wrong at all. After a few hours, she fell back into fitful sleep, her arms tight around his still-as-death form, his name on her lips and the same prayer in her heart.

She would always stare in wonder at him the next morning, as he stood at the counter making breakfast, or in the yard, doing his usual chores, a bright and carefree smile on his face. "Ohayou, Kaoru," he called to her, his eyes flickering with love and startling wakefulness, despite the seemingly sleepless night they had both had the night before. If he was confused by the rims of weary bewilderment around her own eyes, he made no mention of it. He simply apologized for not being already finished his work, and that it would be done very soon, and if she would like to return to the dining area, there was a pot of tea waiting, and would she please wake Kenji, if she didn't mind.

She didn't mind. But she didn't understand much, either.  
  
~*~  
  
Sorry if the ending of this chapter was a bit abrupt or confusing... but this is intentional, ^_^

About Kenshin's nightmares... I really have no idea, and am playing guessing games with what I've seen and what I can imagine. Somethings, you just have to rely on pure imagination and vision... this is one of those things.

The original title of this chapter was "Comfort". Big change, ne?

Reviewer Responses:

Clarus: Hm, well I mentioned you with Team Bonet because you both wrote such wonderful fics, ^_^ but I'm glad you're liking the fic. By the way, I've been reading some shounen-ai and finding that there are some lovely stories out there, so the idea is growing on me... just don't expect me to write it, myself. :P

Girliegirl: I thrive on bittersweet. *grin* Actually, that's not true, but tragedy is really my forte. No marriage is perfect, even if the couple _does_ stay together, and Kenshin and Kaoru is no exception. Sometimes I get a little sick of so many "always happy, always getting along" K&K fics, and Kendo was born from harboured feelings, I think. I've never understood Kenji's feelings for Kenshin either, but he obviously has far more affection for his mom, and I think that this would really hurt Kenshin, even if it is just from a toddler. (or maybe that makes it worse; it IS his son, after all)

Calger459: The novel itself has no real similarities to RK... I just found it to be an interesting guideline for such a fanfic. I found the protagonist of the novel to be intriguing and very... um, how do I say... complicated character, and I wondered what it would be like to portray Kaoru in that light, knowing how simplistic a lot of fanfics make her out to be. I think that's unfair to her, since she obviously has a brain and knowshow to use it. ^_^ As I said to Girliegirl, just above, I _do_ believe that Kenshin & Kaoru had (as a majority of the time) a happy marriage, but not TOO happy. I believe in combining aspects of all forms of RK, and that includes Seisouhen. From that, K&K didn't have a perfect life. I'm only exploring the less-explored portion of their life. Sorry if it's too bittersweet. About Kenji: Again, following Seisouhen. Kenji hates his father with quite a vengence, but that's only due to a fault of BOTH of them. And you know Kaoru, she worries too much about everything. ^_^ As for the shounen-ai... you can blame Clarus for that. He wants me to give up straight relationships and write Kenshin X Sano! (Save me!) So I'm trying to defend myself... ^_^;;

Oryo: Sorry for all the melancholy, but that will be the general mood of the entire story, I'm afraid... as I said above, the novel was just a guideline, and the parody is more for my sake rather than the readers'. So you don't necessarily have to have read the book to understand it, although that has certainly helped me, ^_^;; When writing a parody, I guess it's best to write something based off of a well-known source... but as I said, this was for amusing myself...


	14. Chaper 14 Callous

Kendo no Go  
In The Language of Kendo  
A Fanfic in 100 Chapters  
Akai Kitsune  
~*~  
14) Callous  
~*~

Sometimes Kaoru would have killed for smooth hands.

_'All right, perhaps not kill,'_ she would berate herself for the word choice silently, and of course never, ever vocalized, especially with Kenshin's good hearing, _'But something extreme, at the very least.'_

She never really regretted her lifestyle, the way she had chosen to live. Her school was her purpose, her true love - one of them - and she knew she couldn't give it up, even if she tried, even if she wanted to.

But she wanted smooth hands.

Just to feel the softness rub against her face, the silken touch of elegance that - surely - all women must have possessed except for her. To provide more comfort for her husband, who himself already knew what soft hands felt like, who had loved a woman with soft hands.

Soft hands, hard heart.

Funny how the roles became so reversed, she liked to muse, on the rare occasions when she was awake and he was not, and she lay in bed watching him. Funny how they had changed so much.

His first love had been a woman who could take care of his every need, tolerate his every action - his work, his moods, his secrets - and his second love...

Ah, his second love...

_ 'And I,' _she would add fiercely, hands fisted and curled around the blankets, _'Was a girl who found someone to meet _my_ needs.'_

_ 'I was so selfish, wasn't I?'_

_ 'But... is that such a bad thing?'_

She wanted to brush her fingers through his hair, to feel the softness in the warm flames, but she knew her touch would wake him. It always did.

And vaguely, she wondered if Tomoe had ever been able to touch him without waking him up, with those soft hands, a woman's hands.

Once she had touched him, and he had placed a sword at her throat. It made one think, sometimes; how much a person had changed.

In the past, when he woke at her touch, he smiled sleepily, and asked her why she was still awake.

_ 'Because I'm thinking of you, of who you are, of who I am.'_

_ 'Because sometimes I'm afraid of dreaming of a sword at my neck.'_

_ 'Not yours, though... never yours.'_

It wasn't as if she could tell him. His smile would fade, and he would get that look in his eyes - that guilty, stricken look that made her want to hug him and hold him or throw him through the wall, depending on his reaction to the former - and there would be no sleeping that night. Not for him, and certainly not for her, knowing that he lay awake, grieving and apologetic for giving her nightmares.

_ 'Not yours...'_

There were some things that Kaoru could not stop thinking about, could not discuss with anyone, even if Kenshin wondered what she was thinking of so deeply. He was always in such good humour when he asked, a secretly amused smile on his face and a merry sparkle in his eyes, and she couldn't help but let her thoughts be distracted long enough to consider what he might be so amused by. To escape, she sometimes listed off several chores to keep him busy, or asked him to take Kenji somewhere so they could have a quiet night to themselves. She refused to allow her thoughts to tarnish his more pleasant moods.

She knew - had known for quite a long time - that she had very bad timing, occasionally.

She thought of a great deal of things, usually when he wasn't watching her. She thought of the strange parallels between herself, her husband, and the woman who had been his wife so long ago... the actions they had taken, bringing their lives together, yet still separated.

She, much like Kenshin before her, had taken in a stray, and fallen in love with him.

_ 'The difference? Well...'_

_ 'His stray had smooth hands.'_

She didn't mind his hands, though, as much as her own. A man's skin was supposed to be hard, worn from working his whole life. Her father's hands and been covered in tough skin, and she had felt it when he held her, or tickled her chin to make her laugh. There was much love in those hands.

Hard hands meant working hands. They meant strength, support, power. As much as she liked the idea of it, she still felt as if a wife should have _ something_ to give back to her husband.

_ 'His stray could cook for him.'_

And oh, how she loved his cooking. Especially when her own was so... so...

_ 'His stray... she... she could...'_

_ 'She will stay in his memories forever.'_

_ 'He will always remember her touch. Her smooth, ladylike touch.'_

Her touch had startled him into pulling his sword to her neck.

Her touch had brushed a tear from his eye, smiling as she left him forever.

At Kenji's birth, she did not mind her hands so much, because she had finally given her husband _something_ with smooth skin. That alone would have been enough to bring her joy... if she hadn't been too busy thinking of other things.

She reveled in her baby's softness, brushing her long, thin fingers across his chubby cheeks, his delicate hands with tiny, clinging fingers. She loved to hold him close to her, and feel his exploration of her face - despite any eye poking involved - and hear his delighted laughter, echoed by her own. She loved the smile that always lit up her husband's expression when she held the child out to him, encouraging, calling out.

"Come hold your son, Kenshin!"

_Your son. Yours._

_'Our son.'_

_'Our son, with soft hands, and such a warm, pure heart.'_

Soft hands, warm heart.

She loved to hold him close to her, feel his warmth and his love... but hated the way his heart hardened when his father touched him.

Rough hands has earned him a hard heart.

Aren't those the hands that brought about peace for this generation?

"For him," Kenshin told her, his eyes distant as he gazed down at their baby's sleeping face. "I think of it now, and even if I never knew it before... what I did... back then... it was for him."

_Your son._

_Yours._

"My son," he murmured, brushing his finger against Kenji's cheek. The child stirred, pushing the hand away for disturbing his rest. Kaoru felt a frown tighten her face, and she touched his hair - just a soft frock of auburn string on his newborn head, really - to calm him.

Kenji's arm lowered, his hand closing around a single finger, ignoring the callouses and old cuts that marred the skin. Kenshin knelt beside him, smiling slightly, not moving to touch any other part of him, but simply watching. Admiring. Adoring.

_ "My son..."_

Kenshin slept like that for the entire night, his body curled around that of his child's - his _only_ child's - as Kenji held his hand until morning beckoned for his awakening.

~*~

I'm on a role this week! This chapter is for all those people who wanted a happy ending, ^_^

The original name for this chapter was Hand. In the novel, it was a nice break from the melancholy, so I figured I could go for a similar theme.

Reviewer Responses:

Oryo: Well, usually my comedy attempts are pretty pathetic, besides a few little omake. I'm more suited for the subtle jokes you might find in a serious fic... that's just my style.

April-san: Yes, bad April-san! ^_^ I try to keep the characters IN character... otherwise it's not really worth reading.

kumo: It's not cartoons, dammit! ^_^;; But the depth isn't really mine; Watsuki-san developed these characters all so well, and I just like to smooth everything down to show how I interpreted things.

Calger459: Well, the interesting thing about the novel I'm basing "Kendo no Go" on is that at one chapter, it cuts off at a certain scene, and then picks up again later on in the story (sometimes as much as fifteen chapters afterwards!). I've tried to do the same sort of thing here, so you may just get it, ^_^ And Kenshin's nightmares just fascinate me. In Jinchuu he "wakes up" in the mountains of skulls, and he says, "Here again," as if it happens often... what a depressing thought! I explored this a little in chapter 11, and while yes, Kaoru does comfort him to an extent, I think that sometimes it would just hurt too much. I know I've had my moments, and my life hasn't been anywhere near as harsh as Kenshin's, so...

5|-|!: Many apologies for the extreme depressive content. ^_^;; I'm always in a weird mood when I write this fic. Hopefully this one was a bit better... thank you for all your comments, though!

More coming soon...  
~AK


	15. Chapter 15 Mijikai

Kendo no Go  
In The Language of Kendo  
A Fanfic in 100 Chapters  
Akai Kitsune  
~*~  
15) Mijikai  
~*~

"Life is too short," Kioku told her once, as she cleaned the kitchen after dinner one night, another night of waiting for her husband to come home late and leave soon after for work. Kaoru insisted on waiting with her, but her mother had warned her that rest would someday be quite scarce. The younger girl had no concept of the idea; she thought that staying up half the night was so wonderful, so elegant, so grown-up.

"Life is too short," Kioku said again, with a forced smile, "And you'll likely spend half of it waiting for a man, whether you've married him or not. Don't let it waste. Go to bed, or help me clean up. You can't just sit around waiting for things to happen."

Kaoru promptly went to bed.

Life may or may not have been short, Kaoru later considered, after she had been living alone for a year and then suddenly found herself surrounded by a new and inseparable family, but it was terribly easy to waste. Her mother died young, as did her father - relatively; with a sixteen year-old daughter, he was certainly not new to the world - and for quire a while afterwards, she was terrified of an early death. Life _was_ short, and she intended to live quite a bit longer than that, thank you very much.

Kenshin obviously felt the same way, even when those after his blood disagreed with him. He fought hard to survive, and he always managed to escape death, as well as prevent her own untimely death, though it was often followed by profuse apologies for placing her in danger in the first place. She promptly waved those off; it wasn't as if he had placed a giant sign atop the Kamiya dojo roof that screamed for them to be attacked.  
  
**Attention All Prospective Assassins/Old Opponents/Random Thugs:**  
_Hitokiri Battousai residing here, as of March, 1878. Drop by for a duel resulting in severe bodily harm and/or death (self-inflicted), free of charge. Tea or sake to follow, depending on preference._

No, certainly not, but he wasn't very good at keeping his identity a secret - or rather, picking friends that could keep that secret. Or enemies. She couldn't count the times she had heard someone they knew - most often a future ally - had shouted the name, whether alone or in a public street, "Battousai", addressing her embarrassed and rather displeased rurouni. Some, such as Aoshi or Saitou, simply refused to acknowledge his true name, following old traditions and nicknames, despite the fact that Aoshi had never even met him as the Battousai, and Saitou had no real right to speak to him, all things considered.

_All things considered?_

He had tried to kill Kenshin; might have succeeded if the fight had continued, with the injuries already dealt out by the police spy. Aoshi, too, was guilty of several battles focused on Kenshin's demise.

But one also had to consider that Sanosuke, Kenshin's closest and most trusted friend, had made an attempt on Kenshin's life not a week after their first meeting.

_ 'What a way to start a friendship,' _Kaoru mused with a brief smile. Kenshin had an interesting gift for getting rid of enemies. Either they joined his side - more or less - or got rid of themselves and never appeared in their lives again. Convenient.

Sometimes she wondered about the meaning of life. It was one of those pointless, repetitive questions, but inevitable nonetheless, and when she had asked Kenshin, he blinked in feigned ignorance and muttered a soft, "Oro?" - his typical tactic for escaping questions he didn't feel like answering. Kenji had overheard, and had spent the rest of the day running around the engawa shouting, "Chi! Chi!" which pleased them both greatly, since it was close enough to "father". Kenshin had earned himself a distraction, though, so she was left to ponder the question alone.

**Life** meaning **1. **A late, elegant dinner at the local sukiyaki restaurant, where the waitresses are familiar and friendly, the food is wonderful and untouched by greedy, snatching fingers of kendo students or street fighters, the sake sweet and untainted, and there are no children to wail or cry or say they want tousan's food, tousan's food which is the only thing they love about tousan, if it is love at all.

**Life** meaning **2.** A breezy cruise to Hokkaido on a beautiful Western steamship, where handsome, flawlessly polite waiters serve wine and chocolates all day long, and no children under 15 are permitted on board (also, according to the signs left around town, any death-crazed swordsman hunting down the blood of a single man in all Japan).

**Life** meaning **3.** A pleasant summer afternoon spent on the engawa drinking tea, eating perfectly formed riceballs, dozing without feeling obligated to weed the garden, do the laundry, clean the bathhouse, wash the dojo floor, or fix the hole in the fence again.

**Life** NOT meaning: **1.** A long, hot, and exceedingly dull afternoon spent trying to practice in the dojo with a stubborn, insulting brat of a pupil who insists upon arguing endlessly about nothing, while your silly husband is doing laundry or cooking or cleaning yet again, as he watches your curious, temperamental son try to kill himself with discarded kitchen knives, hammers, high falls, and dozens of other things he knows will send his parents - although, mostly his mother - into a flailing panic of overprotective anger.

**Life** NOT meaning: **2.** Another battle taking place in the dojo - her _father's_ dojo, that precious, frequently destroyed dojo - where the man she loves is cut, and bruised, and thrown around until he finally goes berserk and sends the opponent through the floor, or the wall, again and again until you feel as if you're going to go insane, until after your wedding, when finally the battles stop, and then your son is wailing and wondering why his father is such a wimp, even when you ask him if he even knows what _kind_ of man his father is, and he replies, "Sure, he's a grouch and an idiot. He sits around doing women's jobs and acts like the world is all happy, even when he's scowling or wearing that miserable, brooding look on his face."

**Life** NOT meaning: **3.** Another weekend spent teaching while your husband does the laundry, weeding the garden, washing the dishes, cleaning the bathhouse, dusting the shoji, cleaning out the pantry and discarding any failed cooking attempts, and so on and so on and so on and so, on and on and on, until you fall asleep just _watching_ him, and then you dream of a perfect family where you can do your own chores and your husband works and your son loves him, no matter what he does.  
  
**Life** NOT meaning: **4.** Watching your husband get nailed to the dojo ceiling.  
  
Although he wasn't her husband at the time, she had to admit, she still didn't find the idea very appealing. No one likes to see the man they love with all their heart and soul dying at the end of another man's sword. No one likes to see his fresh blood spilling across the floor and staining the dojo - her _father's_ dojo - that had been so clean, so clean and pure and beautiful that morning and why on earth was she thinking about the floor when he was _bleeding_ all over it?

Eventually, he was no longer bleeding, and instead disappeared from the household entirely. During his absence, the blood on the floor was the furthest thing from her mind. When they finally returned, the blood was no longer there, having been cleaned up - kindly - by Megumi, but it remained imprinted on her mind; a memory, recollection, of how short life really is, when balanced by the end of a sword.

~*~

The idea of Kenshin being nailed to the dojo ceiling came from the fight with Saitou, ^_^ And the original title of this chapter was Short; Mijikai translates to short as in "not long".

This chapter was **_fun_**. Way too much fun. I just got home from a retreat (which is why this is being released on Monday rather than Friday or Saturday) and I had to write _something_. I spent part of the weekend planning future chapters (the novel is now full of post-it notes, ^_^) so I had lots of ideas for what's coming next. Hurrah for retreats; I'm relaxed and had a ton of fun, now I just need to get more sleep. ZzzZz... wait! Reviewer Responses first!

Clarus: I aim to please, ^_^

April-san: Well, that chapter was _supposed_ to end happily... did it not seem so? Gomen... Kendo no Go is hard to write as "happy" when the mood is always melancholy, even when something good happens...

Cheers, that was easy. Hey, you readers! Review! Yes, that button down there! Take a few minutes to make me happy! Please? Happy authors may just mean happy chapters... ^_^ Just don't hold your breath.


	16. Chapter 16 Misery

Kendo no Go  
In The Language of Kendo  
A Fanfic in 100 Chapters  
Akai Kitsune  
~*~  
16) Misery  
~*~

Misery loves company.

Kaoru often wondered exactly _how_ happy Kenshin had been with Tomoe. He had brushed over the subject only vaguely when describing their relationship - knowing that she would likely get jealous or angry if he said he had been _too_ happy - but had never really given any details. What sort of things did they do for fun? Did they _have_ fun?

What did a Bakumatsu shadow assassin do for fun?

He mentioned that he had played with children, enjoying their loud, cheerful company and the distraction it brought about from his thoughts. Tomoe's interaction with them, he admitted, had been less enthusiastic, and it both puzzled and worried him; what if, had they remained alive and married, they started a family, had children of their own? What if her smile was forever frozen in her heart, never to see the sun or meet him on his way home?

"That's part of why I love you," he whispered, brushing a loose tendril of hair away from her face. "You are always smiling, and there is no ice... only sunlight."

Frozen sunlight. How can one love both?

"I was a different person back then," he told her, a wistful, sad smile on his face. "I was lost in a world I thought I could change, lost in my own mind and the thoughts I had created for myself. I was frozen too, in a way; it was Tomoe who made me see that, and somehow we managed to find a little happiness in each other."

"But Kenshin," she objected, "You were so different from each other, as well. You were trying to change the world for the better. She was ice because she hated you. Didn't _you_ help her to see how wrong she was?"

He laughed at her, quietly as usual, and shrugged. "Love, hate. It's strange how easily one can be changed into the other. I did nothing to change her; I merely lived, continuing on as I had before, with the exception that she was there with me, showing me that there was more to life than just... existence. She had such an unusual way of caring, it made me curious - something I hadn't felt for a long time until she came. Eventually I came to love her, not for her smile, or her spirit, or any of the reasons I love you," He paused a moment, unconsciously reaching out to wrap one arm around her and draw her close to him, "But because she was the only one to really care about me since I became the hitokiri. It was so unheard of... I couldn't help it. She had a strength I could never fathom."

Kaoru was lost, confused. "Kenshin... how can you love two people who are _ that_ different from one another?"

His broad smile returned, and he tapped the end of her nose playfully, giving her cheek a gentle kiss. "Because, Kaoru-chan," he murmured honestly, "In your heart, you have that same strength. And... as I said, I am a different man from the manslayer who fell in love with Tomoe. I could never love anyone like her again; it would be far too close to my heart. I need a stronger balance for who I am now."

She could say nothing after that, and instead chose to take his words to heart and snuggle closer to him, enjoying his warmth, and all his promises.

~*~

Hm, it turned into another Kaoru/Tomoe chapter. That wasn't really intentional, but I was completely at a loss when I read this chapter in the novel. What the heck was I supposed to do? The muse wasn't working with me, so I decided to do something a bit different. The original title was "Fruit". Sorry it was so short.

Review Responses: (Ooh, tons, ^_^;;)

April-san: I'm glad I amuse you, ^_^ that idea came to me suddenly for no real reason at all, and I loved it too much to drop it.

Till next time!


	17. Chapter 17 Firefly

Kendo no Go  
In The Language of Kendo  
A Fanfic in 100 Chapters  
Akai Kitsune  
~*~  
17) Firefly  
~*~

Kaoru had always had a deep fascination with fireflies. Something about them, their graceful, near-silent flight, the soft glow in the darkness, the way they made her feel as if she was completely surrounded by beautiful fairies who had come to grant her every wish and desire.

Despite the fact that she had several unhappy, heart-breaking memories of the fireflies, and the changes brought by their light, magical presence.

She had been encircled by fireflies on the night Kenshin held her in his arms for the first time. She had invited him to watch them with her earlier that day, a cheerful smile on her face, even as she knew, deep in her heart of hearts, that something was calling him away from her, and she was losing, losing badly. She had seen the glowing light in his eyes, resigned and rueful, as he told her he was leaving her and returning to his old life. She had felt a soft tickle against her skin as they brushed against her, until Kenshin's arms pulled her close to his body, his breath warm against her hair, her tears cold and aching on her cheeks. She had ignored their frantic scattering as she fell to the ground, hands clenched into fists over her face, as he released her and disappeared into the shadows, and she was left alone with her tears, her grief, and the light of the fireflies to lead her home.

She had been walking among them, with friends and family alike, her mind echoing pure bliss and comfort, when an explosion had rocked the streets of Tokyo not far from where they stood, and started a chain reaction of vengence that could not be stopped, could not be prevented or turned aside. She had lost all track of the insects and the joy when Kenshin's voice, concerned and knowing, announced that he had recognized the sound. She had forgotten that fireflies were slowly becoming a sign of grief, anger, regret. Death.

"Okaasan, what's that?"

"It's a firefly, Kenji-kun." Kaoru was enchanted as the glowing insect drew closer to the engawa, where she held her sleepy son in her arms, finally coming to land on the post nearby, the light fading slightly. Kenji reached towards it, and it fluttered away, its shine quickly returning. The child laughed, clapping his hands together, and waved as the firefly disappeared from sight.

She sent a brief, secret glance to Kenshin, who stood behind them in the light of the open shoji, and he returned the smile. Time, and their blessed - and long overdue - marriage had eclipsed the pain she used to feel in her dark memories of the light of the fireflies, and the joy she took in her son's delight far outshone old wounds.

"Tousan, did you see the firefly? Ne, ne?"

"Aa, Kenji, that I did," Kenshin replied, the smile broadening, and he moved to sit beside his wife and son, gazing out at the stars in search for more of the flickering lights.

"Did you know," he spoke again after a long moment, "That fireflies are believed to be the souls of people who have passed away?"

"Passed away?" Kenji repeated, puzzled by his subtle wording.

Kenshin's brow furrowed, trying to think of how to explain the concept of death to his young son. Finally he sighed, giving the boy a weak smile, "People who aren't living in the world anymore."

"You mean people turn into fireflies?"

His father held back a laugh, ruffling Kenji's hair gently. "Something like that. But everyone loves to watch the fireflies. Even the emperor of Japan. Families all over the world come together - just like us - and watch them dance with the stars, to pay respects to the people they knew."

"Like who?" Kenji wondered. "Who are you watching, kaasan?"

Kaoru curled her hand around her son's small fingers, her joy fading slightly in memory. "I'm watching your grandpa and grandma, my parents. And... and your auntie. A woman named Tomoe."

Kenshin's hand touched hers, patting it gently to tell her that he understand, and that he was grateful.

"What about you, tousan?" their young son persisted, wishing the attention to be returned to his questions.

Kenshin smiled wistfully. "Oh, I can't focus on anyone. I like to watch them all... there are so many."

"Yeah," Kenji echoed, not noticing the sharp glance his mother suddenly shot her husband, nor his gentle whisper in her ear, in reassurance and comfort. "Hi everyone," he began to wave again, rocking back and forth in Kaoru's lap, "Hi 'jiisan and 'baasan! Come back and visit, ne? Was that okay, kaasan?"

"That was fine, Ken-chan," Kaoru smiled brightly, nuzzling his cheek and tickling him until he shrieked and sought protection from his father, making a face and burying his body against Kenshin's side, wary of her once-safe fingers. "That was just fine."

~*~

Whee, two chapters in one day. I wonder how long this will last, ^_^ And I like the way these parts have been going. The mood is improving; I guess it really does depend on my state of mind...

By the way, I just had to add a couple of cute scenes with Kenji. He couldn't have avoided his father his entire life. I think his aversion came in stages; I just enjoy writing the aversion more. ^_^;; Sorry, and I hope this makes up for it, even just a little.

The original title for this chapter was "Butterfly".


	18. Chapter 18 Right

Notes: Okay, before I begin this, I need to make a note of something: I sort of made a mistake with chapter 14. The content of that chapter was a bit of a mix between the original _this_ chapter and the original 14, which left me with nothing to write about for chapter 18! Annoying. So I had to wing it. I hope it's good! ^_^

Disclaimer: NOT MINE! *huff*

Kendo no Go  
In The Language of Kendo  
A Fanfic in 100 Chapters  
Akai Kitsune  
~*~  
18) Right  
~*~

"I hope everything runs smoothly," Kaoru said for what must have been the twentieth time, chewing absently on a fingernail.

Kenshin rubbed her shoulder gently, his voice as soothing as his hands upon her kimono. "Daijoubu, koishii," he murmured, "It will be just fine."

"You always say that," she sighed in response, moving away to adjust her obi again. "And something _always_ goes wrong."

Kenshin grinned with a small shrug, unabashed. "Maybe things will be different this time. Today is special, after all."

"Mm, sure is..."

They were at the Akabeko, announcing to their friends the news of Kaoru's pregnancy, and the expecting couple was a bit wary of the reactions. So far, only Dr. Genzai knew of it - since it was he who discovered and revealed it to Kaoru herself.

She scowled a little at that train of thought. _'Kenshin... he knew before even I did, didn't he? Mou... one day I swear I'll have to get him to teach me that ki thing...'_

Despite her initial misgivings on her husband's behalf, she found the prospect of being pregnant to be daunting, and downright terrifying. She, a mother? Bringing her very own child into the world, raising it, teaching it everything it needed to know?

What would she name her child?

_Kenshin's_ child?

She had to admit, as nervous as she was about they idea, Kenshin seemed far more shaky than herself. He tried to act calm, for her sake, mostly, but when she met his soon-averted gaze, she could see the dark lines of fear in his eyes. He, a former assassin of the Bakumatsu, was going to be a father.

_ 'But lots of men from the war were fathers,'_ she thought, puzzled. _'Even my father was in the war. Surely he knows that...?'_

_ '... no one like him, though, I suppose... he always considers himself so much more guilty than a normal soldier...'_

_ 'Idiot... your past shouldn't matter so much anymore...'_

If there was one thing that was not all right at their celebration, Kenshin thought to himself, it was the absence of Sanosuke. It was been a year since the ex-gangster had disappeared from Japan, sending the occasional letter every few months, sporadic and often very brief. He seemed enthusiastic about his new travels, and never mentioned about sort of danger, but Kenshin could not help but feel the weary burden of fear and worry over his friend, lifted only temporarily each time a letter arrived. He had great faith in Sano's abilities, but his sense of self-preservation was constantly tempered by the carefree attitude, and the manner in which he dealt out his own sense of justice. Though Kenshin would never say it in front of either of them, he had always felt that Sano was much like Saitou in that way.

He missed Sano. He couldn't stop himself from thinking that way, as he walked around town or the dojo, constantly awaiting the shuffling footsteps at the gate, a mumbling, "Yo!" as his friend called out through the fishbone in his mouth. He missed the lighthearted playfulness that Sano carried with him, beyond the gruff tone and freeloading tendencies.

He missed having someone to confide in.

Oh, certainly, he had Kaoru, but he never liked to worry her. That one thing had remained throughout their relationship. He couldn't tell her the type of things he may have told Sano, if the younger man pried and twisted his arm enough. Kaoru was insistent, but she did not know how to deal with his stubbornness the way Sano did. It had been one of the things Kenshin had learned to rely on.

_ "There's no one in the world I'd trust more than Sano."_

Yes, he missed that mutual trust a great deal. And his heart stung, in remembrance, his friend's relaxed face as he disappeared from Japan, his easy grin, his casual attitude.

_ "I'll indulge a bit."_

He left without a second thought, unable - unwilling - to allow Kenshin to take care of his troubles. It hurt; more than he ever imagined. He could easily understand why Sano had done such a thing - he had explained it to the others, after all - but it couldn't erase his feelings.

_ 'When he comes back...'_

_ '... when Sano comes back...'_

_ '... maybe I'll ask him... iie, I could never...'_

_ '... he'll come back, and I'll...'_

_ 'I'll smile, and I'll welcome him home.'_

_ 'Won't he be surprised to see our son, Kaoru?'_

_ 'Ah... maybe that's why I want him to come back... to show him...'_

_ '... everything is all right, now...'_

_ 'So... come home.'_

~*~

Interesting... when I visualized this chapter, I never imagined Sano's appearance. Aw well, I suppose I've neglected him a bit, haven't I... Kenshin and Kaoru are too much fun to write, ^_^

The original title of this chapter was "Smooth". You can see where the conflict occurred, ne?

Reviewer Responses:

April-san: Yes, a note from one reviewer (Calger459, I believe) mentioned that Kenji probably had a closer relationship with his mom because that's common for younger kids. So, really... he had to have his moments.

Calger459: *nods agreeably* Definitely; that's why I love him so. ^_^ I've received so many comments that the story is so melancholy (which is at least in part my intentions...) that I decided to lighten it up a bit. Hopefully it will have a better balance between light and dark (as you said) in the future.

Gochan: Er... thank you... I think? _;;


	19. Chapter 19 Orders

Disclaimer: NOT MINE! *huff*

Kendo no Go  
In The Language of Kendo  
A Fanfic in 100 Chapters  
Akai Kitsune  
~*~  
19) Orders  
~*~

"Do this tonight."

A nod. Constant, calm, unquestioning loyalty and obedience.

_ 'How on earth did I do it so long?'_

When his friends actually allowed him to sit and brood about his past, Kenshin found himself wondering why he had trusted his commanders so easily. A single, neatly worded phrase, an envelope, the colour of ebony, slipped surreptitiously into the sleeve of his gi, sent him on his way that night, his katana dripping blood before morning.

So easy, it had seemed.

_ 'I never asked, did I? Not once, for five years.'_

_ 'Not once.'_

_ 'Not until... until...'_

_ "You've entrusted the decision to others, whom you follow regardless of how you may feel."_

Tomoe's constant questioning of his actions had, for the first time since becoming the hitokiri, made him reconsider the truth about what duty really was. Who _he_ really was.

_ "I'm just a hitokiri who brings the bloody rain."_

And how often, as a child, had he wished for the rains to come and wash away his suffering, the suffering of his loved ones? How many times did he turn his eyes - wide and violet, yet empty of the innocence a child ought to have contained - to the empty, pale skies and wish for the clouds to roll about him and cry, even once?

If only to hide his own tears...

And when the rains came, bringing death, not the life he so desperately wanted, the clouds were dark and crimson.

_ "You are the one who makes the bloody rain fall."_

_ "I'm only doing as ordered."_

_ "Do this tonight."_

_Your wish is my command._

"Kenshin, can you please go into town and pick up some tofu?"

"Aa, Kaoru-dono."

"Kenshin, are you going to cook dinner tonight?"

"Aa."

"Kenshin, make sure the laundry is done by the time I get home, ne?"

"Aa."

"Kenshin, has the engawa been swept yet?"

"Aa."

"Kenshin, am I making you do too much?"

"Ah... iie, Kaoru-dono, I'm fine."

It was, it seemed to Kaoru, that very moment, when she finally realized at least one reason why Kenshin insisted on adding the honourific to her name.

**-dono:** **1.** Miss or ma'am, in an archaic manner. **2.** A respectful, yet archaic fashion in which a servant addresses his master.

Was she expecting too much from him?

_I'm fine, Kaoru-dono._

Was she pushing him too hard?

_It's all right, Kaoru-dono._

Did she force all the chores on him?

_I can do more, Kaoru-dono._

Did she take advantage of him?

_I'd be happy to help you, Kaoru-dono._

_ 'No wonder we're not married yet. He treats me like the mistress of the house, because I send him around like my servant...'_

_ '... am I really that bad?'_

It wasn't as if she did nothing. It was _her_ house, after all; she knew how to take care of it, and she had been doing so for years before Kenshin had wandered into her life. But... he did things so much _ better_.

_ 'What would I rather eat, his cooking or my own?'_

_ 'Should I be doing the laundry, or teaching at other dojos to earn income?'_

_ 'So many hard decisions... but in the end, it all comes down to Kenshin, doesn't it...'_

_ '... When did I become so dependent on him?'_

And he had certainly asked his fair share of questions, during their time together. But always questions; he had never really told her to do anything, even in the form of an inquiry.

_ "What's wrong, Kaoru-dono?"_

_ "Are you all right?"_

_ "Is it not good?"_

_ "Did you sleep well?"_

"Will you marry me, koishii?"

All right. So maybe he had caught her off guard now and then. She had come to look forward to his questions, his quiet, gentle concerns for her welfare. Perhaps, she gradually began to realize, that was his manner of caring for her, his way of showing her that yes, she meant something to him, moreso than a master ought to be.

And yes, she did love him in return, and yes, he did recognize that, and yes, he would love to get the tofu for her, today, everyday, anyday, _koishii_.

~*~

This ending was... unusual. But fun. Did I jump too quickly?

Another fun chapter. I'm glad I didn't get stuck too badly on chapter 18... I was so looking forward to writing the future stuff. Anyway...

The definition for "dono" was taken directly from my prior knowledge of the word. If anyone has a more specific definition, I would love to post it as a replacement, provided it includes (basically) the same examples I gave. And I just love the word "archaic", can you tell?

The original title for this chapter was "Command".

_Reviewer Responses:_

**Calger459**: Hm, I haven't actually considered bringing details of the party into the story... now that you've given me the idea, I may just have to incorporate it later on, ^_~ And I didn't much enjoy the parting of Sano and Kenshin in the manga. It was true to their characters... but it was still terribly disappointing! Oh well. That's what regret-fanfics are for, ne? Heh...

**April-san:** Just a tiny bit?! I think you hurt Sano's feelings on that one, ^_^;; Recently the chapter sizes have been shrinking. It's kind of sad. But I can only write what my muse tells me, I guess. Heh, Rurouni Sano is right!

**Oryo**: Glad the firefly one served its purpose! Yes, I like the idea of Kenshin and Sano's relationship remaining as strictly friendship, because they have such a strong bond, I would hate to ruin (in my eyes) it with a romantic relationship. Hm, that's true that Kaoru doesn't seem to have someone like that... her friendship with Tae doesn't seem as strong, and Misao is so far away it's hard to have that same sort of bond. I might just have to write that in at some point, ^_~

**supernaturalove**: The "jumping in front of the sword" was originally something for an omake, but after I put it in, I was so terribly amused, I couldn't bear to remove it... and you _know_ how much I love Tomoe. I think I was trying to lighten the mood, and while I do believe Kenshin would be much more... er... sensitive? about the issue, it was simply a joke I couldn't erase. Many apologies. I do believe that Kenji must have had some moments of peace between himself and his father, at least until he got older and his feelings started to develop more. Kids change their minds so easily, ^_^ unfortunately adults tend to hold grudges.

**Mir**: I don't resent the delay; I'm rather honoured that you've reviewed, actually. ^_^ Besides, I have reason to duck. I'm too lazy to post at TFME yet! Oi... many thanks for the encouragement!

**Girliegirl**: Yes, Sanosuke! But this one - Kenshin! Heh.

More coming soon! I promise!


	20. Chapter 20 Washtub

Disclaimer: NOT MINE! *huff*

Kendo no Go  
In The Language of Kendo  
A Fanfic in 100 Chapters  
Akai Kitsune  
~*~  
20) Washtub  
~*~

While Kenshin was recovering from his battle with Enishi, Kaoru, taking it upon herself to do his chores early in case he had some foolish notion of helping, discovered that the washtub had a rather large leak. An attempt to fix it would likely prove to be lengthy and not worth the effort, as it had already been mended multiple times in the past, so she opted to buy a new one. With Sanosuke in tow to carry it back for her - only mildly reluctant, he chose her suggestion over watching Kenshin, a job they left with Yahiko - she set out one afternoon to find a replacement.

She never would have imagined that the purchase of a washtub could be even remotely related to her rurouni's life, but as she peered at the selection of large wooden buckets, she found herself wondering what it was about laundry that Kenshin found so appealing. Certainly, the idea of having a clean home - _home_ - was satisfying, at least, but for him to be so willing to do the job at every opportunity was puzzling. It was such a lengthy task, all that cleaning...

... _cleaning_...

The new tub proved to be quite satisfactory, and, after he had healed enough to satisfy Megumi's inspection, even Kenshin had to admit that it was less troublesome than the leaky one. Kaoru fussed and grumbled about it, demanding to know why he hadn't mentioned the leak beforehand. He had smiled faintly, one hand behind his head, and answered quietly that the damage had likely occurred during Enishi's first attack on the dojo, and afterwards, he had been far too preoccupied to worry about the laundry.

An interesting choice of words, she remembered thinking, but had not voiced her thoughts. Something in his eyes had asked her not to.

It had taken him a long time to work up enough courage to tell her exactly what he had experienced during her absence, and his admittance of her apparent death - and his aftermath - made her surprisingly angry at Enishi. Not since Shishio's coup d'etat had she felt such a strong distaste for another man. Kenshin's brother-in-law had been terrifyingly cruel in his so-called justice, for a crime that was never truly intentional, a death that was a fault of no one but whatever fates turned their backs on the young Bakumatsu couple. However long it had taken Kenshin to reveal the truth to her, it took much longer for her to forgive the savage, inhuman torment inflicted upon the heart and mind of the man she loved. Eventually, she came to pity him, and the consumption by hate his own mind had experienced since he had witnessed the death of his sister. It was a wasted life, and she truly prayed that he would be able to find peace and renewal in his understanding of what had occurred that day, through the words of the one person he cared for.

Sometimes she wished with all her heart that she had been able to read Tomoe's diary. It had remained in her hands for only a moment, and she had been tempted - sorely and selfishly - to keep it to herself, rather than hand it over to the man who had caused them all so much grief. But something in her heart stirred as she looked at him, dejected and handcuffed, as if a voice was urging her on. The book felt heavy in her arms, the faded, stained pages fluttering limp in the wind. Tomoe's eyes seemed to watch her, judging her every action, her every thought.

_ 'It doesn't belong to me. And... I don't need to see what you saw in him.'_

_ 'You knew the Kenshin of the past, Tomoe-san... but he has moved on, and so I should as well.'_

_ 'You will always live on in his memory, and I will respect and understand that as well as I can. But I refuse to let him dwell on things that may or may not have been... especially when I... when he...'_

_ 'We need each other, now... more than ever...'_

Kaoru, over time, began to learn how much she needed Kenshin with her. Even after Megumi's departure for Aizu, Sanosuke's disappearance for the wider world, and Yahiko's shift of lodging from the dojo to Sano's old longhouse, Kenshin's presence in the dojo was a familiar comfort that held back her unease at the sudden changes. She enjoyed waking up to the smell of his cooking, exiting the dojo from her morning practice to find him diligently sinking his hands into the water of the washtub, a broad smile on his face, a welcome on his words, and love in his eyes.

And she suddenly realized, one morning that was no more special than any other, that all the rest of the world could shift and vanish beneath her feet, but if he was at her side, bound to her through the ties of that flickering emotion she saw whenever he looked at her, she could go on, she could survive.

~*~

Wow, talk about losing focus. I never realized how many philosophical thoughts could stem from a washtub. Go fig. I guess Kaoru didn't know either, ^_^

The original title of this chapter was "Chair". Basically, a pointless object that our mutual protagonist was somewhat attached to. It took a good while to figure out this chapter... how frustrating.

_Reviewer Responses:_

**Calger459**: Heh, the stage in which Kenshin is overly arrogant and defiant may come up in later chapters. Keep an eye out for it, ^_~ And I'm definitely looking forward to seeing that pic!

**Oryo**: Forced? I doubt that I could be forced into much of anything, ^_^;; Thanks for your comments on my writing... sometimes I get nervous that I'm doing too much, and I make good use of my thesaurus *grin* but I love detailed descriptions. I'll try to keep that consistent throughout the chapters.

**supernaturalove**: Pregnancy chapters? I do have plans for that, actually, but I'll have to get some outside info, as I have not experienced that part of life, (good thing, too...) ^_^;; Explaining the "oro"... that would be very cool... the problem with doing the reaction of Kenshin and Kaoru to Kenji's birth is that it's been done so many times before, I'm afraid of even attempting it. Maybe eventually... for now, I just like the interaction they're experiencing. I don't know about Seisouhen, because a lot of people either a) didn't like it, or b) haven't even seen it. If I do delve into aspects from Seisouhen, they will likely be implied or hinted at, but not outright and obvious. I've already done that (such as, Kenji's consistent distaste for Kenshin, and Kenshin's occasional wandering from the dojo to work) so I'll just continue in that way.

More coming soon!


	21. Chapter 21 Oishii

Disclaimer: NOT MINE! *huff*

Kendo no Go  
In The Language of Kendo  
A Fanfic in 100 Chapters  
Akai Kitsune  
~*~  
21) Oishii  
~*~

Nagasaki was a beautiful town, filled with many treats and trinkets to shop for. Kaoru loved to travel through it whenever the chance happened to occur, spending hours at a time admiring the stalls littering the streets.

She loved sweet things of any kind, and would happily make a day trip with Megumi, Tae, and Tsubame to the sweet shops of downtown Tokyo, indulging in the fattening snacks she so rarely found for her own home. Kenshin was an excellent cook, for certain, but he was no gourmet chef, and he made no attempts to create any elaborate desserts.

Her first taste of Western chocolate was, needless to say, an extremely pleasant one.

"Oishii!"

The shopkeeper in Nagasaki had laughed at her, she remembered with a light frown, after Kenshin had politely purchased her a small piece to test it. He himself had smiled, taking her arm to lead her to the next stall, where another offered treat awaited her experimenting tongue.

He had not expected her to drag him back, purchasing a full box of the dark brown squares of mixed cocoa. At the end of the day, his wallet was as empty as his stomach, even though she had offered him a piece. He hadn't liked the look in her eyes as she held it out to him, and had declined with a weary smile.

It had made her happy, and that was all right.

_ 'I do hope she has enough money for our tickets to get home again, though...'_

It wasn't very long after that Kaoru discovered that Kenshin did not even like chocolate. She found the idea simply uncanny and unbelievable.

"You _what_?"

He waved her off, grinning and going back to chopping the vegetables he had been cutting before she crept up behind him and popped the half-melted treat into his mouth. "The taste just doesn't really appeal to me," he answered honestly, as she watched him in astonishment, absently licking the liquid sweetness from her fingernails. As soon as he saw she had finished, he smiled secretively, and took her hand in his, gently brushing his lips against the tips of each finger, making her blush.

"However," he murmured into her ear, "I think you are more than enough for me, aren't you, koishii?"

Inwardly, he winced._ 'Ouch, that was terrible, wasn't it?'_

She did not seem as daunted by his words as he was, and instead blushed deeper, and rewarded him with a bright smile, moving closer to meet his kiss.

He could taste the chocolate on her lips.

"Not so bad, is it, love?" she mumbled in his cheek as they pulled apart, her eyes sparkling in merriment.

He merely chuckled, pressing his forehead into the crook of her shoulder. "Nothing about you is bad," he whispered, his hand curving tightly around her back. He felt her hands in his hair, and he restrained another small bout of laughter; she always loved it.

"You are too sweet for me," he said instead, tender and affectionate, almost against his will.

She laughed that time, the sound light and carefree in his ears, and shifted away from his embrace, still suckling on her fingers for any excess treats hidden on her skin. He watched her departure for a moment longer, the feel of her touch and the taste of her - and that _chocolate_ - still lingering on his body, then returned to cooking. A silence suddenly filled the room, and he began to hum, involuntarily and very quietly, to brush away the discomfort.

Halfway through a tune he couldn't name, Kaoru's furious scream echoed through the household.

"Yahiko! Get out of my chocolates!"

Her shout was quickly followed by a crash, an alarmingly unenthusiastic "itai!" and the sounds of footsteps pounding down the halls. Various cries of their argument ensued, and he winced in sympathy with each crack of wood against the offending head.

Kenshin caught a whiff of the chocolate as the footfalls passed the kitchen and continued on into the yard, and was roughly reminded one of the reasons why he didn't like chocolate.

Silence.

He began to hum again.

~*~

Well. Ahem. That was interesting. Another chapter that took a few days to actually get started. And I'm usually so fast with it... _ The original name of this chapter was "Sweet". I knew exactly what it would be about, I just didn't know how to change that into a chapter. I'm so glad it's over...

This was my attempt to bring a bit of sweetness (Ack! Bad joke!) and comedy into the fic. I hope it was approved of by those hoping for some happy moments, ^_^

Wai! Go see the pic that Calger459 made for Chapter 17! It's so kawaii! ^_^ Many thanks to Calger459 for creating it! *_bows low_*

http:// www. akaikitsune. 150m. com/ fireflysm.jpg (copy-paste the link into your browser and remove the spaces!)

_Reviewer Responses:_

**Clarus**: Oh shut up, ^_^

**April-san**: Yes, the ending for 19 was... well, I'm glad it wasn't overly cheesy. Heh... sometimes I tend to let my heart run away with me. You haven't seen all of Jinchuu? Go here, you can read nearly all of it as soon as the links are posted:

http:// jinchuu. cjb. net/ (again, copy-paste into the addy bar)

**Girliegirl**: Actually, that happened to me once, with one of Clarus' fics. I wrote out a big long review, but it cut of after my first sentence (which was me ranting about how I had to type the review out twice because ff.net died, making me look bad). I was so mad! I think it wuld take Kenshin a while to get knocked out of saying "-dono" because it's been so hard-pressed into his mind. He even calls her that in the 2nd ova, after they're MARRIED with a son... oi... baka Kenshin, ^_^

**Calger459**: Actually, as I'm reading the source novel (nearly done - only ten chappies left! ^_^) I find that the protagonist had a rather troublesome past, and is gradually learning what happiness etc. really is, blah blah... so I think that Kendo no Go will follow the same format. Thus far, it has been mostly melancholy with a few nice moments of happiness. But I'm fairly sure it will, like the novel, develop into a more cheerful fic. And I promise you now, I will _not_ give it a Seisouhen ending, even if I do include aspects of the OVA itself, ^_^ Hope that pleases you somewhat.

**The Angry Generalization**: I think I have said it before to other reviewers... the basis for this fic is a rather melancholy, reminiscient novel, so a lot of the chapters will follow suit. However, I do seem to be getting better, ^_^

More coming soon!


	22. Chapter 22 Calling

Disclaimer: NOT MINE! *huff*

Kendo no Go  
In The Language of Kendo  
A Fanfic in 100 Chapters  
Akai Kitsune  
~*~  
22) Calling  
~*~

Kenji inherited his mother's voice. Immediately following his birth, Kenshin knew this, as the newborn's first, shaky cries echoed throughout the household. It remained constant throughout his early years, whenever the boy called out for their attention.

"Kaasan, come look at this!"

"Tousan, watch me, ne?"

"Yahiko-niisan, play with me!"

His voice, high-pitched and full of the youth exuberance Kenshin found so enduring, in both his wife and son, made a deep imprint on his heart, and continually touched him, no matter what the boy said.

Perfect, yes. His perfect son.

Kaoru had different ideas, most especially when Kenji decided to misbehave. The child had a strange fascination with dark, brownish mud puddles and sharp objects, both of which made Kenshin wince at the very notion. He was also terribly mischievous, possessing a streak of playful endurance he gained from watching Yahiko at work. There was many a day that Kaoru found herself thinking fierce - though brief - unmotherly thoughts, even if the majority of them were focused on the teenaged sensei of her young, impressionable son, rather than the mischief-maker himself.

Such as the day when she woke to an incredibly foul smell, and soon discovered that Kenji had found a skunk loitering about the property, and had not only managed to coat himself in the stench, but had thought it would be amusing to smear it on one of her favourite kimonos. It had taken days to get both of them smelling decently again.

Such as the day she entered the dojo for her morning practice and found her bokken had been plastered with a sticky, days-old rice paste that had begun to go moldy overnight. It had hardened to the point where it resembled some sort of brown, fluffy glue, and she had worked Yahiko - even as the little brat laughed and grinned for hours afterwards - to the ground in her frustration as Kenshin struggled to scrape away the paste.

Such as the day she caught Kenji playing with the dojo cat and noticed that half the animal's whiskers had somehow been cut off. The cat was irritable for the rest of the week, and Kenji had both the scratches and the tears to prove it.

Kaoru almost resented the fact that Kenji never seemed to pull such pranks on his father, but Kenshin had - politely and carefully, as she watched him scrub the floor clean of Kenji's latest food antics - pointed out to her that he was unlikely to give Kenji the same reaction as she did, which was most likely what the boy desired in the first place.

She wondered for a while what, exactly, _that_ meant, but had been forced to return to reality by way of Yahiko's startled, adolescent scream, and Kenji's childish laughter.

"Kaasan!"

At four years old, Kenji's wails could have awakened the dead. For some reason, this train of thought did not bother Kenshin nearly as much as Kaoru.

"It's not that bad," he smiled sleepily at her as she grumbled her way out of bed. He had offered to go, but Kenji had always been clingy with his mother, so his presence at midnight would not be as welcoming as hers. "I haven't heard any complaints from the neighbours, yet."

"Because our neighbours are a couple of old folks who know what its like to have toddlers," she replied testily, sending him a weary glare as she left their room and headed down the hall to get her son settled again.

He flung himself at her knees the moment she slid open the shoji, sobbing and sniffling into her yukata about shadows and fear and how alone he felt. Her anger dissipated in a second - as it often did when he was with her - and she knelt beside him, reaching out to draw him close to her. He welcomed her comfort, his cries gradually falling to sniffles. She felt herself smile gently, whispering soft murmurs of consolation against whatever had scared him out of sleep. When he finally settled down, and she shifted to pull away and send him back to bed, he clung to her, and she let out a quiet sigh, knowing that he would not return to sleep that easily.

"Shh, shh, Ken-chan," she said faintly into his ear, "How would you like to come stay with tousan and I?"

A quiet sob, and his fists tightening in her hair was her answer, and she rose easily, carrying him back to their room. Kenshin must have felt them coming, for when she slid open the shoji, he had carefully spread the blankets evenly, to make room for all three of them. She smiled in silent thanks, and he returned it easily, taking their young son from her as she settled within the blankets. Kenji whimpered only slightly as she released him, and she was grateful for that. It had been difficult enough to silence him without his starting up again. As soon as she was content within the covers, they snuggled closer, holding Kenji between them. The boy was quiet again, clinging tightly to Kaoru's yukata, his face nestled against her shoulder.

Kenshin did not sleep much that night, and instead spent half the night watching his wife and son doze beside him. They were so peaceful there, resting in his arms. So quiet when they were asleep. Innocent to the world, oblivious to the darkness and shadows that swarmed around them.

He curled closer to his family, his eyelids finally shutting out the known obscurity of the room to greet the oblivion of sleep, and he rested his cheek against the crown of his son's head, whispering softly into the hair that was his, and hers, combined.

_His_. His perfect son, no matter what he did.

"I love you... I love you..."

~*~

Aw, kawaii. See? Happy. I told you I was getting better! This was actually a bit of a comedy at the beginning, ^_^

I have a confession to make, though... the incident with the cat is a true story. My parents' cat currently has much smaller whiskers than he used to, because some silly little toddler decided to snip-snip, thinking the cat needed a nice shave, ^_^;; And yes, that was me. I was like, five, okay?! And he doesn't even hold a grudge. What a nice cat. Heh...

The original title for this chapter was "Whistle". The novel was no help in writing my version whatsoever... one of the annoying parts about writing a long parody. _ At least it didn't take too long.

_Reviewer Responses:_

**Calger459**: I myself love chocolate, but due to a weird milk allergy I can't have a lot of it at any given time, so I'm very appreciative of it, ^_^ You never really see Kenshin stuffing his face with sweets and such, so he struck me as sort of a healthy eater. You'd have to eat well if you're as active as he is, not to mention, as a rurouni there would not be much money for indulging in candy and chocolate. So this may also be a factor. As for ff.net's URL problem... well, I have no idea why it IS a problem to begin with, but at least it's solveable. ^_^

**Dinette**: Thanks, I feel better now. ^_^;; I got so sick of the K&K perfection fics that I just had to remedy that. It started out as really focusing on the hard parts, but I *am* following the book format, so as the fic progresses, it will get better. I don't mean to say that it was all misery; I just wanted to write about that aspect of their life together, because it had to be there.

More coming soon! I promise! And... come on, guys... leave a little review... just a couple of words to know that you're out there... *sniffle*


	23. Chapter 23 Onna

Disclaimer: NOT MINE! *huff*

Kendo no Go  
In The Language of Kendo  
A Fanfic in 100 Chapters  
Akai Kitsune  
~*~  
23) Onna  
~*~

**onna n. 1.** a female adult human being, as opposed to MAN.** 2. **women collectively. **3. **a female servant. **4.** _ a)_ a wife, _b) _a sweetheart or mistress; a female lover or sexual partner. **5.** a man with qualities traditionally regarded as feminine, such as timidity, weakness, tendency to gossip, etc. **6.** womanly qualities or characteristics; femininity. See also **WOMANHOOD, WOMANISH, WOMANIZE, WOMANLIKE, WOMAN OF THE WORLD, WOMAN SUFFRAGE, SNOW WOMAN.**

"I saw you, Battousai! I saw that this is your woman!"

For days, weeks, months after her initial kidnapping by Jin'ei's hands, Kaoru agonized over that single statement. His woman. _His_.

_ 'Strange... how he could say it, even when I...'_

_ 'Well, I was a little restrained at the time...'_

_ 'But still...'_

_ 'He didn't deny it, did he?'_

When Kenshin finally asked her to marry him, still hesitant, still unsure, and still infuriatingly polite, she wasn't exactly sure what to say to him. She could have yelled at him, scolded him, demanding to know why on earth it had taken him so long to ask the question he must have known the answer to. She could have been angry for being so indecisive; was the love that she offered - that _he_ felt - so insignificant and weak that he wasn't sure if it would last?

She could have been angry.

Instead, she simply accepted, a smile on her face and love in her suddenly tearful eyes.

"Hai."

Thinking back, she wondered how it must have felt for him to ask. She herself had never received the question before he came to her; indeed, she had never really known any man beyond the common crush of a neighbouring dojo student, or the son of her father's friend who had rather enjoyed her company in previous years. She had never felt more than casual friendship from any man.

Kenshin... he was different. He had known love, had felt this terribly beautiful feeling, and had gazed into the eyes of the one whose heart had stolen his, and asked her to marry him.

"As the sun set," he had described, head bowed and eyes clenched shut, "Several days following the Ikeda-ya incident, I asked Yukishiro Tomoe to be my wife. She accepted."

In the glow of the dying sun, he had asked the elegant woman of the snow to marry him, to share her life with him, tied together with the binding threads of love and tradition. Terribly romantic.

Kaoru mused over her own engagement. It had been the most wonderful moment she had felt since... since... well, there wasn't much to compare to, which said something in itself. Together, alone, in a clearing by the river, surrounded by the fireflies in the dead of the night, he had taken her hand and finally admitted his desire to wed her. Not nearly as compulsive or unthinking, but rather a planned, drawn-out affair by the man whose heart had stolen hers.

Hers. _His_.

Their engagement was not completed in the light of the celestial fire, spurred on by another man's suggestion the impulse of desire and ignorant youth. It was not the result of a one-sided passion, a relationship of love and hate, trust and secrecy. It was not echoed by the death of a day, the ending of of an era. It was an agreement between a man and woman who knew each other, who had in fact known each other for a long time, tiptoeing around their feelings during most of it. It was a consummation of hidden - yet thoroughly obvious - mutual feelings and, eventually, the joining of two people who had already been prodded towards each other by multiple friends, remaining in ignorance at each attempt.

_ 'We just couldn't be rushed, I guess,' _she thought to herself with a shrug. _'It had to be decided between the two of us... no one could make that choice for us, no matter what they thought.'_

Even after their marriage, after Kenji's birth and their initial plunge into family life, she still thought often of those first few weeks of Kenshin's stay at the dojo, and all that had happened between the moment they had met on the street, and the moment he had slipped her hand into his and told her he loved her. Even then, even now, and even eternally, always, she had wanted to be his.

_His_.  
  
~*~

Sorry about the delay! This is another one of those chapters where it consists of only the definition (same as Man/Otoko) so it took me awhile to figure out what I wanted to say, ^_^

The original chapter title was "Woman", and that is of course the translation of Onna...

This chapter was not me saying that I didn't like the way Kenshin and Tomoe got together. I think that the engagement during the Memory arc was by far the most beautiful scene. However, I do know that Tomoe wasn't completely devoted to their relationship at that point in time, if she ever really was. Thus, Kenshin and Kaoru's engagement was far more focused on the actual marriage than Kenshin and Tomoe's was. This is just my take on how it went. Things may have changed later, but a good thing doesn't always start well, ^_^

_Reviewer Responses:_

**Calger459**: You're so faithful, *sniff* Yosh! I'll finish this fic if only ONE person keeps reviewing! That I promise! ^_^ Speaking of the three Kenshins, have you been to the TFME forum recently? We're begun a game somewhat akin to the Live-In Anime Characters, where each of the regulars have chosen a character to keep to themselves. Since we love your fic so much, Mir and I have decided to use the "Prism" Kenshin have split him into three... she got Battousai, and I got Rurouni and Shinta. Lucky, lucky me (since I originally had him as all three, and she DID only ask for him, it's only fair, ^_^). You should check it out, it's actually pretty amusing. Poor Yahiko hasn't been picked yet, ^_~

**supernaturalove**: Well, some people just don't like chocolate. Kenshin is one of them, ^_^ I think he thought that the statement was a bit cheesy, maybe, although looking back, it wasn't bad, ^_^;; Oh well. Kenshin has always been more critical of himself than anyone else. The silence was just him missing Kaoru's tasy sweetness. O_o Okay, THAT was bad. Heh...  
  
**Icqgirl**: Thank you... nobody else wants to listen to me when I ask them to review! *glares at all non-reviewing readers*  
  
**Dinette**: I think the vast majority of us Kenshin fans would eat his food, ^_^ I know I would...

More coming soon!


	24. Chapter 24 Chills

Disclaimer: NOT MINE! *huff*

Kendo no Go  
In The Language of Kendo  
A Fanfic in 100 Chapters  
Akai Kitsune  
~*~  
24) Chills  
~*~

Kenshin hated winter.

He hid it surprisingly well, and the pain he felt had been dampened by their marriage, but Kaoru could see something flat and emotionless in his eyes during the first snowfall. She watched him as he walked through the snow, his sandals gently crunching the pristine white beneath him, and saw how he focused only on where he was going, and ignored - or did not see - the fluttering, spiral descent of chilled rain.

But he smiled; he always smiled. She felt as if there was nothing in the world that could make his smile disappear. _Nothing_.

In winter, she took great lengths to see that he was as comfortable as she could make him, without his notice or questioning. She had never truly liked the scent of white plums before, as a perfume for herself, but after Kenshin's admittance of his previous marriage, she avoided it like the plague. Every night, if he had been particularly silent or thoughtful that day, she held him close to her until they were both asleep, her hands deep in his hair, knowing that it was a comfort, something familiar.

_ "Tomoe used to do that."_

_ 'Would they ever have been in bed together, if she did not love him?'_ she wondered, but was appalled by her curiousity afterwards. She had no right to know, no reason to hear the answer to that question, and plenty others.

She always noticed, however, that no matter how they had fallen asleep together, he in her arms, or both of them apart, every night during the coldest season of the year, she awoke with his arms curved around her, his face in her hair, surrounded by the faded scent of jasmine.

Kaoru loved winter; the way the snow fell around her like glittering stars, white and cold on her skin. She loved the way the tiny flecks of ice melted on her cheeks, streaming down to her chin, soft as a butterfly's tickle or Kenshin's touch. She loved the way her antics, childish as they sometimes were, always managed to make him smile, despite the memories, the pain, the visions of white plum and blood that must have been dancing through his mind.

Most times, her smiles evolved into laughter, especially during practice with Yahiko which usually changed to snowball fights in mere moments, dragging Kenshin away from his chores to join their fun if they could convince him. During those afternoons of icy wetness and chilling enjoyment, his memories and her fears dissolved in the distilled sunshine of glowing, mischievous eyes. Afterwards, they found escape from the cold in the kitchen, drinking tea while Kenshin sifted through her mother's old recipes, hunting for a suitable treat to accent their dinner. Later still, when Yahiko had gone home to Sano's longhouse, tired but grinning, Kenshin lit a strong fire beneath the bathhouse, and they sought comfort and solitude from the frozen outdoors within the heated waters, together.

At night, when they were weary and warm, they retreated to a readied futon, cuddling close, soft whispers echoing through the dark room, and she would brush her hands through his hair as she held him close, the close fragrance of water and soaps mingling with their combined jasmine and ginger.

And in the morning, with rays of the winter sun as heralds for their awakening, she opened her eyes to find herself in his arms again, his nose in her hair, her cheek rested on the lithe, scarred flesh of his chest, his scent lost in the midst of her perfume.

~*~

Hm, kind of happy and sad at the same time. *shrug* I don't even know anymore... sorry it was so short, though.

This chapter was partially inspired by Jan's fanfic, "Snow". A lovely story, ^_^ and it really captures the heart of Kenshin in winter.

The chapter's original title was "Cold". Another chapter where I had to more or less wing it...

_Reviewer Responses:_

April-san: Yes, the cat, heh... actually, she'll come back in another chapter, in a rather important part... chapter 31, I believe... oro, I just gave it away. Oh well, ^_^ something to look forward to, I guess. I update fast because the chapters are so short, it's easy to write them. Er, that actually depends on whether the muse is cooperating or not, I guess.  
  
Calger459: Past 100 chapters?! Oi! First people were asking me if I could even go that far, now you want to know if I'm going further... ^_^;; Well, once Kendo is actually finished, I'll look into doing maybe a sequel of sorts, using a different idea. This fic is based off of the novel, which uses the Standard Word Association Test as a guideline. If there are any other novels out there which have the same sort of format, it would definitely be an interesting follow-up project. *grin* I'll look into that.

More coming soon!


	25. Chapter 25 Hurry

Disclaimer: NOT MINE! *huff*

Kendo no Go  
In The Language of Kendo  
A Fanfic in 100 Chapters  
Akai Kitsune  
~*~  
25) Hurry  
~*~

"Kenshin," Kaoru tugged on his sleeve anxiously, like a little child seeking attention, "Hurry up! We're going to be late!"

He smiled at her, because she was smiling despite her small fears. "It's all right. We have plenty of time."

"Iie!" she disagreed. "We have to hurry!"

_Hurry. Go faster. Fast, but silent. Noise is unnecessary._

_Faster. Silent._

_Deadly._

_Noise can get a man killed._

_Go faster._

"Hurry up! Move it!" his voice seemed silent in his own ear over the roar of his surroundings, but the men nearby caught his words and hesitantly followed. He had never been one to lead a group, but Katsura had given him a duty, and he would perform it until his release from service.

The men he commanded were not very good at following orders, sometimes. "I said hurry," he growled sharply, not to scare them, but to make them understand. Haste was a priority. They had to get out of there.

The enemies they faced had guns with them; guns, and by the _gods_ he could have sworn he had seen a cannon as well, and they were armed with nothing but swords, and they had to regroup with the others before they were noticed by the Shogunate's warriors, before their enemies realized that they were alone and isolated and perfect targets.

_ 'The cannon I may be able to take down,'_ he calculated the distance hurriedly, as his men shuffled past - _quickly_ -_ 'But only if I were alone. I can't take that risk... leaving them could result in their deaths.'_

_ 'I won't be responsible for that. It will not happen.'_

_ 'But only if we go faster...'_

The sounds of gunshots were growing closer, the speed of their assailants catching him off guard for a moment. He waved a hand for the men to keep moving, faster, faster, he'll catch up in a moment, he's going to take down the scout before their position is betrayed, and the man is dead, his body falling headless to the ground, blood staining his katana, and the men have stopped to watch, those _idiots_, keep moving, faster, _faster_...

The cannon went off.

He felt his blood thrumming wetly in his ears when he landed, unable to get his feet underneath him, instead curling his body to regulate the impact. His katana was closeby, still in the sheath, its hilt bloody, the tsuba somehow torn apart. He reached for it, rolling away as another body fell where he had lay, and regret filled his eyes as he recognized the figure beside him as one of his own. He looked back to the forest outskirts, his cat-quick eyes seeking any living man. Most of them were down, a few scrambling to their feet, blood oozing out of the shrapnel wounds they had taken. He shouted an order, waving for them to continue moving, to grab their living comrades and run for the main group.

_ 'If I were alone...'_

They hesitated, and he cursed, rushing towards them, shoving the katana through his hakama ties. He shot past them, winding a path through the maze of trees, slowing down only so the survivors could catch up. They were straggling behind, and they were slow, so damn _slow_, and they would all be dead in a moment if they didn't hurry, there was a _cannon_ for kami's sake, didn't they understand, they were dead, all dead, if they didn't move quickly...

_ 'If I were alone...'_

Another man stumbled, and before the others reached out to help him up, he grabbed the man by the collar and pulled him to his feet, his free arm curving around the man's body and dragging him forward, ignoring the groans and protests. There was no time for gentleness, no time for compassion, only enough time to run and barely survive, and they had to hurry _now_, they had to get out _now_, or time would run out, and what did pain mean if you were dead?

His head snapped alert at the sound of a familiar voice, somehow rising above the gunshots. Takasugi-san was there, his sword raised, and his men were charging, their voices a great roar, like the wave of the ocean crashing against the rocks, and they _were_ a wave as they collided with the Shogun's warriors, weapons raised and slashing, carving a way towards the commanders, creating a great, violent distraction.

He kept moving, calling for the others to join the fighting or seek refuge behind those who could, then he handed his burden to another and charged, unsheathing his sword and raising his own voice to the wind, in challenge, in anger, in sorrow for the men who had died under his command, and the men who were going to die as soon as he reached them.

_ 'If I were alone...'_

_ '... it would be so much faster...'_

_ '... a hitokiri... always works alone...'_

"Kenshin, hurry!" Her voice was so insistent, so urgent, that he really could not hold back his smile. The smile made her pout a little, as if he were laughing at a joke made at her expense, and it went by her unappreciated. "Mou!"

"It's all right," he repeated, his voice gentle and soothing, "We're not going to be late, so there's no reason to rush. Let's slow down and enjoy the wind."

"The wind?" she repeated, puzzled. He often made strange requests, but sometimes she had to question him.

He chuckled, giving her a brief nod. "Aa. The wind... it is so calm today. I feel as if nothing could be swept away by it; the world could remain in place forever, and no one could force it to move. I like to follow the wind's example, sometimes."

She frowned at him for a long moment, her eyes turning impatiently to the sun. Finally she sighed, and took his hand instead of his sleeve, moving to walk beside him and match his slow, easy pace. "Okay," she said quietly, "We'll follow the wind then."

"Arigato," he murmured into her ear. She merely smiled, squeezing his hand in her own, and they walked on, the sun setting slowly - _ slowly_ - at their backs.

~*~

I'm sorry, this was a little depressing. I've always wondered at what doing a war scene would be like... I suppose I got my answer, ^_^;; I was in a bit of a dark mood (trying desperately to avoid homework...) when I wrote it, so maybe you can excuse the dark nature of this chapter. The run-on sentences are intentional, obviously.

Yes, I did use whiny Kaoru for once. I'm sorry, I really and truly am. She had a childish moment, and that is the intention; sometimes she has to be that innocent, to balance in with Kenshin's dark thoughts. She has to live in ignorance, so she can make him smile and turn his thoughts to other things. I will most likely avoid her kiddy-moments in the future. Sorry to all those who cringed at her.

I'm not exactly sure of the weapons used in the battles Kenshin fought in, but as far as I know, guns were used in the war, and certainly a few cannons (meaning the Armstrong cannon; since Kenshin recognized the sound of it going off in Jinchuu, he obviously must have heard it enough times to be able to name it ten years later). This is a nameless battle that took place whenever. That's all I'm going to say, ^_^

The original title for this chapter was "Slow". I'm one quarter of the way there, and I haven't faltered yet! But I have to hurry off any do the next chapter! ^_~ (ouch, bad joke, bad joke!)

_Reviewer Responses:_

**April-san**: Usually when words are italicized they are either thoughts of a character, or memories of what another character has said. Whenever "Tomoe used to do that" comes up, it's just Kaoru thinking of when Kenshin said it. He wouldn't dare say it more often; I think the one time was bad enough, ^_^;; As I mentioned to another reviewer, that scene was originally an omake, so it wasn't to be taken too seriously. As for the scents of the characters... jasmine is the perfume most often associated with Kaoru, and I saw in several fanfics that Kenshin smelled of ginger. Once someone starts a trend, they're hard habits to break. Plus it sounds pretty, ^_^ I have the same sort of love-hate relationship with snow. Too cold, but since I live in Canada, it's one of those inevitable things. Oh well.

**Dinette**: Well, _maybe_ over 100, ^_^;; Depends on whether or not I find the inspiration and the basis. As this is a parody, going further would be difficult... however, we'll see what happens when I get there, right? I guess snow is okay sometimes. But too much of it is annoying. It snowed again yesterday! Enough is enough! -_-

More coming soon!


	26. Chapter 26 Hope

Disclaimer: NOT MINE! *huff*

Kendo no Go  
In The Language of Kendo  
A Fanfic in 100 Chapters  
Akai Kitsune  
~*~  
26) Hope  
~*~

After Kenshin's proposal to her, Kaoru's days were generally spent daydreaming about what their future would be like. Oh certainly, she knew that he would be a wonderful husband - despite how much of a failure he felt he had been in his last marriage - and they had done all right living together without being married, but there were many concerns and fears that came with this new love and duty.

_ 'What if I'm no good as a wife?'_

_ 'What if I can't really make him happy?'_

_ '... what if... what if he changes his mind?'_

A part of her scolded her sharply for even considering such thoughts. It had taken Kenshin so long to propose to her in the first place; last minute reconsiderations were not in his nature. Once he made a decision, he followed through. It was part of who he was.

So, after much consideration, she wondered at what he worried about, instead.

_ 'Does he think of me as a woman, or as a child that needs his protection no matter what?'_

_ 'Does he love me, or pity me?'_

_ 'Does he ever worry about what sort of husband he'll be?'_

_Of course he does, _that same voice in her mind gently reprimanded her ignorance. _He is the one who killed his last -his first - wife, after all. He's bound to have doubts, worries, fears._

_ 'But it wasn't his fault.'_

_And has he ever acknowledged that fact?_

_ 'Of course not.'_

She was constantly frustrated by his inability to give less and accept more. She knew he would give up his life if he thought it was worth something... and if it would help someone else in a way of which he approved. He would never take more than the bare necessities of what living required of him.

_ 'Don't you need love to live, Kenshin?'_

_ 'Don't you need a family to go on?'_

_ 'Don't you have a reason for living?'_

A will to live; that was the secret of the Hiten Mitsurugi ougi, Hiko had told her. Someone with a strong will to live can escape death, Megumi also said.

_ "It depends on my heart."_

What did his heart say of her?

_ 'I hope...'_

_ 'I truly hope it speaks of love, Kenshin... the kind of love I feel for you. The kind that makes me want to live, to live forever, as long as you live, just because you're living.'_

_ 'The kind of love that gives me a will to carry on.'_

_ 'I hope...'_

_ 'In our life together... this live that we made, that you offered to me when you asked me to start anew at your side... I hope... we'll always feel this love.'_

_ 'And we'll be happy, won't we?'_

_ '... we'll always be happy...'_

~*~

... Was it horrendously cheesy? Please be generous with your comments. But gentle, ^_^;;

The original title for this chapter was "Wish". I was going to make this chapter "Firefly" (after the filler episode), but that didn't suit the chapter at all, so I opted to do it here. It's much nicer this way.

_Reviewer Responses:_

**Clarus**: Thanks, ^_^ I'm surprised you didn't mention Kaoru's return to childishness! :P  
  
**Calger459**: Oh good, the battle scene was okay, ^_^;; I was a bit unsure about doing it (which is why I've never done one in the past...) but it's one of the aspects of Kenshin's life that I can't really avoid forever. You like snow too? I agree, it really is beautiful... but oh so annoying after it's fallen. ^_^ Ooh, the pic is almost done? I can't wait to see it! *_dances around the room_*

More coming soon!


	27. Chapter 27 Kawa

Disclaimer: NOT MINE! *huff*

**A little note before you read:** You'll notice the change in Kaoru's father's name. I was reading my Kenshin manga a little while ago and I realized that his name _was_ mentioned, so I went back and changed it. My bad, ^_^;;

Kendo no Go  
In The Language of Kendo  
A Fanfic in 100 Chapters  
Akai Kitsune  
~*~  
27) Kawa  
~*~

Kaoru could remember standing on the bank of a river, as a young child, fishing with her father. She was laughing, splashing through the reeds and the mud with her kimono drawn up above her knees, her hair tied high to try to avoid making a mess of it - although it failed miserably. Koshijirou watched her, a broad smile on his face, in one of the rare moments he went without his stern facade.

Her mother had been dead for three months.

It had not been their first excursion to the river, but it would certainly not be their last. It eased the pain in her heart, knowing that love and enjoyment still existed in the world, that not all was lost, broken and dead. She knew, also, that her father was able to relax at the river, its waters a soothing balm to his suffering soul. She was a child, but she had always been fairly observant.

They never did catch much on the long afternoons of spring and summer, even when the fish were plentiful and hungry, but neither seemed to care very much. It was a welcome vacation from everyday life and the continuous knowledge that their family had once been bigger, that if sickness had not won another battle in the war it constantly waged against mankind, a family of three, not two, could have been laughing and teasing each other in the cool waters.

As she grew older, Kaoru liked to walk along the river by herself, standing on the dirt path and gazing out across the span of flowing water, her arms curled around her body to protect against the wind-chill. The river always seemed a little lonely, moving continually without respite, without mercy. It flowed whether the days were cold or hot, stormy or calm. She loved its consistency, yet at the same time, pitied its endless journey.

Sometimes she would give in to her initial, yet often childish temptation and pull her kimono up, tying it tightly or simply tucking it back in the hopes that it would not fall, and jog down to the bank again, wading into the flowing current and feeling the ripples tickle her bare legs. She would close her eyes and turn her face to the sky, the sun bright on her skin, and let heat and chills war for control over her body, meeting in the center of her heart and causing a delighted shiver to run up and down her spine. Her kimono, half-tied and tugged by the insistent currents, fell from its restraints and into the water, seeping through the material straight up to her knees.

Later, she would trudge home, dripping and sheepish, unable to avoid her father's gaze when she entered the gate and he was there, waiting for her, sometimes practicing alone or preparing to teach a class. He would turn to her, stare at her for a moment, and shake his head - _just so_ - in a manner that would always send a blush of embarrassment to her cheeks, and set his students into friendly, half-hidden laughter. He never berated her for it, though, and mere moments after, she would be changed and joining the lesson without a word between them, leading the class with the skill she was known well for.

Kenji was just learning to crawl when Kenshin suggested they have an afternoon picnic by the riverside, inviting Yahiko, Tsubame, and Tae along if they wished. Tae politely declined, of course, claiming that the Akabeko would be busy that afternoon, but she was gracious enough to allow Tsubame and Yahiko a few hours off for the outing.

"Kenji would love it," he had assured her with a broad smile, keeping his eyes on the toddler as he scrambled on his hands and knees through the dirt of the yard, Yahiko on his heels coaxing him forward. "I think we just need a nice, relaxing day to ourselves, away from the dojo or any sort of chores. Does that sound good to you?"

Part of her wanted to object to his proposition, a million paranoid, motherly horror stories coming to mind.

_ "What if he trips and falls on a rock?"_

_ "What if he falls in the water?"_

_ "What if the current is too strong and he's carried off somewhere where we'll never find him again?"_

_ "What if he drowns?"_

These fears and many others were already half out of her mouth, when she suddenly realized why, perhaps, her father never took her to the river before her mother's death. It was a terrible thought, and it made her reconsider.

_ 'Anything that could happen to Kenji will most certainly be prevented, either by Kenshin - who is always watching him, no matter what he is doing - Yahiko - who watches when he can, almost certainly as fierce and protective as Kenshin as times - or myself, who would likely have a heart attack if he stubbed his toe...'_

_ 'Silly fears, that is what these thoughts are. Kenshin is right; Kenji will love it, won't he...'_

He did, of course, although he was reaching the age at which he smiled at everything; smiled simply for the sake of smiling. He giggled babyishly as Yahiko held a wriggling frog in front of him, staring disfavourably at its captors; he cheered with her as Kenshin pulled an exceptionally large fish from the rushing water; he laughed when Tsubame's shy comment of praise sent a blushing Yahiko and his own fish into the river. He fell asleep in her arms after they had eaten their prepared lunch, before he had even tasted the treats Tsubame had brought with her from Tae. He continued sleeping even when she passed him to her husband, and he carried the child home, as the softening bubbles of the water echoed Kenji's quiet snores, drawing him deeper into peace slumbers.

~*~

TGIF! I was able to get a lot more writing done, so expect the next chapter to come out pretty quickly!

Heh, another Kenshin/Kenji ending? These are irresistible. If I don't watch out, this story might actually make me _like_ Kenji or something... ^_^  
  
The original title of this chapter was "River", which is the definition of Kawa... go fig...  
  
Yahiko's frog was inspired by April-san's welcoming gifts for newcomers to the Tales From The Meiji Era Forum; her own wriggly chocolate frogs, ^_~ This one is just for you!

Reviewer Responses:

**April-san**: Ah, good... well, you know me. I always worry, ^_^ The parts are coming just a liiiiittle bit slower now, so be patient with me... I agree, Kenshin would probably have trouble with leadership. I bet a lot of men resented his high rank. Maybe that'll turn up in a future chapter too, ^_~

**kumo**: I feel so relieved, yet again! Don't we _all_ want to kick our wonderful protagonists in the heads? That's what fanfics are for...  
Akai: *kicks Kenshin*  
Kenshin: Ouch! What was that for?  
Akai: Dunno yet. I'll think of it eventually. ^_~

**Clarus**: No shounen-ai? *applauds* Heh. Only 73 chapters left? That short? ^_~

**Amie**: Wow, all at once? What great devotion! ^_^ I had to add more depth to Kaoru... being one of the primary characters, she certainly deserves it, and in my opinion, the anime didn't do her justice. Quite a few people don't like Kaoru, and I'm hoping to give her more appeal my making her character more sympathetic. Seems to be working, anyway...

**Calger459**: That's true, Kenshin isn't a sappy character by nature... but I've been trying not to make Kaoru one, either. One from Kenshin's POV? That's an interesting idea. I'll see what I can do, ^_^

More coming soon!


	28. Chapter 28 Shiroi

Disclaimer: NOT MINE! *huff*

Kendo no Go  
In The Language of Kendo  
A Fanfic in 100 Chapters  
Akai Kitsune  
~*~  
28) Shiroi  
~*~

The colour of snow; cold, unfeeling snow that blocks out the sound of your feet as you step through it, silent and full of calm resolve, approaching your targets with the cold efficiency of a trained assassin.

Which is precisely what you are.

Snow, in which your victims fall, lifeless and setting free their final breath, eyes wide in surprise as if they cannot believe they were beaten so easily. Afterwards, you stare at the skies from which it falls and question, as you wait for the observers to come and leave the warning of heavenly justice on the mutilated bodies, how long you will survive in this bloody town, how long until you will be just another corpse on the ground, empty and nameless, without a person to speak for him, only the confident, gloating words of the man who managed to kill you, and the murmurs of how such a small stripling of a boy could have been the deadly hitokiri.

Snow, which you catch upon impulse, watching the pure white ice crystals dissolve in your hands, as you wonder with a bleak frown if everything pure you hold onto will disappear, lingering in your thoughts like a lost fragrance, merging with the eternal stains of blood that will never go away, however many times you wash your hands, however many snowflakes you capture from the sky.

The colour of snow; beautiful snow that you walk through with your wife, your conversation as silent as the flecks of white surrounding you. Snow that falls outside your home - a home, for the first time in your life, truly - as you hold her in your arms, drawing her warmth as she draws yours, loving her with all your heart and wishing to whatever you happen to believe in that things will never change, that the war will never return, and that you both could remain, warm and loved, until winter ends and spring sends a new life into your marriage, no longer spurred by impulse and political suggestion, but by emotion and strength. You wish you could remain, but you do not, and the snow feels cold against your skin when you awaken alone.

The colour of snow; the empty, numbing ice against your skin as you travel forward, a katana in your hands and fury fueling your soul, slashing through any man or weapon that acts as a boundary between you and your goal. She is waiting for you, your warmth in the winter, and you will not allow her to freeze, not alone, not any longer.

Snow, which is no more than a continuous cloud in your misted vision, a chill on your exposed skin, a soothing wash of purity for the blood staining your body.

Snow, falling all around you, as you raise your sword in a final attempt to win her back, to set her free, to die that she might live.

Snow, white as her kimono, and suddenly it _is_ her kimono, right in front of you, in front of your sword, and then nothing is white, everything is red, dark red, blood red -

Snow, falling towards you, resting on her face as she touches yours, as a drop of blood falls on her cheek, mingling with her smiling tears, and it, too, melts beneath your fingers as you hold onto her, like a snowflake, like a lost fragrance that you do not want to let go of, never, _ever_, even though she is dead and you are not.

Snow, in which your wife - a second love, but never secondary in your heart - dances and twirls, her young, child-like face bright and full of life, a broad smile and beautiful laughter echoing through your mind like a mantra of awe and wonder, of how such a man could win her heart. You watch her, smiling with her, not even realizing that you are staring until she stops and looks at you, questioning you for a moment. As you stammer through an answer, she gives up and takes your hand, pulling you into her intricate, invented dance, until her student - the boy who is your son, however unattached your lineage - tosses snowballs at you and calls you lovebirds, calls her that silly name that could never be truly attached to her, even when she grows old. The moment is broken, except when she smiles back at you, and you realize that the moment will never truly be broken, and that it, like bloodstains, like lost fragrances, can never truly disappear from your soul.

~*~

Notes: Ara. That was complex. If you're wondering why it was written in omniscient narrative, that's exactly how it was done in the novel. The original title was "White" - the english translation of Shiroi, of course, ^_^

If you're wondering why I didn't do a section with Kenji in it... I got sick of him. Kidding, kidding! This chapter is sort of continued in one of the later chapters, so I could not include Kenji, for continuation purposes. (And to avoid repeating myself...)

_Reviewer Responses:_

**Calger459**: Giving Kaoru more depth is too much fun, ^_^ I don't even bother watching the dub. When I heard Kenshin's voice on the DVD it made me cringe so badly, never mind Kaoru's... as for Kenji, I never really liked him much. He was quite the brat, and I am probably one of the few people who enjoyed his performance in Seisouhen... but I'm treading carefully in Kendo, and it's fun making him into a much more loveable kid than he's often portrayed as in fanfics.

**Amie**: Why'd you duck? I like Kaoru just fine, ^_^ And she was much better in the manga than in the anime. After Kyoto her character sort of... exploded, -_-;; But I've tried to remedy the line of destruction. I'm glad you enjoy it.

More coming soon!


	29. Chapter 29 Kirei

Disclaimer: NOT MINE! *huff*

Kendo no Go  
In The Language of Kendo  
A Fanfic in 100 Chapters  
Akai Kitsune  
~*~  
29)   
~*~

"You have beautiful eyes," Kenshin often told her, gazing at her with that look on his face; that look of utter adoration that made her want to melt into his arms - although most times, she did just that. Almost as often, however, she wondered to herself how he could consider her eyes - so plain and common - to be beautiful, when his were the most amazing, exotic pair she had ever seen.

His eyes were such an unusual colour; a bright, glowing amethyst, shining like the sun one moment, then dimmed with the pain of memory at another. They changed so often, full of life and death, love and hate, joy and anger. Sometimes she just wanted to sit and stare at him, delighting in his unusual and eternally unique appearance, thinking to herself that he was hers now, but she knew he would notice and question her gaze. She wasn't quite prepared to answer him without blushing madly.

Kenshin's eyes _were_ like the sun, she gradually began to realize. Sometimes like the dawn, coming up from the east to greet the new day, bright and brilliantly shining with life. At other times, like the sunset, glowing sadly with the image of death and memories, as the day faded and ceased to exist, only to radiate with its former vitality the next morning.

Sometimes his eyes burned with the dark fires of the hottest, more unbearable time of day, dangerous and deadly to those who dared to look into their depths for too long, seared by the flickering anger that promised an end to all existence if he were crossed.

She so rarely saw such violent, amber flames within his eyes, but it frightened her. The thought that her husband, her love, could cause so much damage with only his gaze was enough to send shivers running down her spine.

Truthfully, after their time in Kyoto, she never saw the golden demon flare in his eyes again. Once her fears had receded, she gave herself time to consider the truth about Battousai, as she called him - as if he were truly a different person than Kenshin, rather than a single part of a whole entity - and she found that he was not all she had made him out to be.

A demon, she had called him, although never to Kenshin, and never vocalized. She found it terrifying and incomprehensible, the very idea that Kenshin, _ Kenshin_, would kill someone.

However, when she tugged her reluctant memories to the surface of her mind, focusing on what she had seen, rather than what she had believed at the time, she began to understand that his anger was not borne of flames, at all.

It was cool, like ice, burning to the touch if one's hands were warm. It licked at the heat of the body, freezing a recipient of that cold, tactical gaze in place, unable to move or react before it was too late. A golden, unfaltering gaze, unique in every way.

It wasn't until their marriage that she acknowledged Kenshin's darker counterpart as less of a deadly monster, and instead as the same man she loved, if a little more assertive and feral than his normal disposition allowed. At the heights of their passion, through the hazy cognizance of self-induced bliss, she remembered looking up into his eyes and seeing, in the depths of his heavy-lidded pupils, amber sparks of fervored desire. But he was no less gentle, no less loving. If anything, his actions were stronger, fiercer, less restrained and more tuned to the needs of both of them. It was as if he was creating a new battlefield for himself, without the sword... a fight against the harness of his softer mindset, a wrestling for control over their experimental pleasures. A struggle for who succeeded in making her smile at him, whatever eye colour greeted her in return.

It was for that fact alone that she found reason to frown - internally; at the moment she was too pleased to think of it too deeply - when Kenji opened his eyes for the first time, revealing a brilliant sapphire blue. Kenshin was thrilled, although having a healthy child would have been enough - was, in fact, _more_ than enough - for him, but he had always had that silly admiration for her eyes anyway. It was fascinating and puzzling at the same time.

But Kenji was a child, her child, _their_ child, and she could not dwell on something as silly and inconsequential as his eye colour. He had not been born with her hair, as well; that was another reason to be thankful, she thought mildly. There were too many thoughts, wonderful, irreplaceable, delightful thoughts at her son's birth to allow anything to spoil that joy. Anything at all.

~*~

Notes: Not much to say here... the original chapter's title was "Beautiful"; kirei's definition, in fact...

I think the third section of this chapter is the closest I'd ever get to a lemon, *sweatdrop* I hope nobody winced at that part. But it _is_ a part of marriage, isn't it... ^_^;;

_Reviewer Responses:_

**Calger459**: You're so faithful, ^_^ You're right, in Ruroken, Kenji's role was so small it was hard to figure out his personality... but Watsuki-san actually DID say that he would grow up to be pretty nasty and twisted, even if he was obscenely smart (apparently able to figure out the HMR techniques by HEARING about them!). Aiya... that last paragraph was a mistake, and thanks for pointing it out. I was tired when I wrote it, can you tell? ^_^;; It has been fixed... arigato! And... don't expect TOO much from LSRV, *sweatdrop* It's only a lil' vignette. Kind of unfair of me... maybe I'll release it earlier... (oh wait, I just did... :P)

**Lia**: Plot bunny? Dunno if that'd work... this fic has no real plot, ^_^

**Faymon**: Wow, now that was an extreme compliment! Thank you very much, ^_^ At first Kaoru was pretty difficult to write, but now I'm used to her, so it comes easily now... good thing, too, with another 70+ chapters to go!

More coming soon!


	30. Chapter 30 Shoji

Disclaimer: NOT MINE! *huff*

Kendo no Go  
In The Language of Kendo  
A Fanfic in 100 Chapters  
Akai Kitsune  
~*~  
30) Shoji  
~*~

_Rain hardens the ground._

Kaoru remembered such helpful, warning proverbs, spoken repeatedly by her mother during her brief, impulsive bouts of thoughtfulness. She often thought back on the wisdom of those words, echoing her life in so many ways.

_Even pockmarks are dimples._

She hadn't seen, during all that time, all those months when Kenshin was staying with her, how much she had needed him. How much they had needed each other.

_The eyes speak as much as the mouth._

Kenshin's gaze, whether soft violet or angry gold, had always been gentle and full of love when he looked directly at her, capturing instantly her attention... but more importantly, her heart.

_Meeting is the beginning of parting._

The slide of the dojo door when Kenshin first agreed to stay with her was the most wonderful thing she had felt in a long time. And, in contrast, the soft sound of his sandals as he turned away and vanished into the darkness on the road to Kyoto was most devastating. She knew, at that moment, that sayonara really meant _forever_.

_Hell and Heaven are in the hearts of men._

Her Kenshin... an angel sent to rescue her from loneliness, or the demon he made himself out to be? She often wished he could knock such foolish concepts out of his silly rurouni head, although she knew it would do her no good.

_The walls have ears, the shoji have eyes._

The world was always watching, she realized after living with Kenshin for so long. No matter who you are, where you are; if you have a name, a reputation of some consequence or importance, someone is bound to follow you. She knew that, if given the choice, Kenshin would discard the name Hitokiri Battousai from the extensive memory of history forever, but it was rare that anyone even remotely cared about his wants, his needs. He was simply an obstacle - albeit a challenging one - to destroy in the path towards the title of the strongest.

One step closer to the goal of being the ultimate fighter. One man closer to the true immortality of being remembered.

One death away from becoming the greatest manslayer.

Kaoru wanted to take every single challenger by the neck and give them a good shake until they left Kenshin alone.

_ 'Anything. I'd do anything if they would just...'_

_ '... just leave him in peace...'_

Sometimes she argued with him about it. She knew he wanted to live a more peaceful life, she knew it in the very _core_ of her being, but he never truly admitted it. He would smile at her, that silly, disarming smile that made her wish she didn't have to argue with him, made her wish that the entire world would take a hint and leave them alone so she had no reason to, and tell her that it was all right, he didn't care either way, and that no amount of wishing would make his enemies disappear.

Sometimes she wondered if their neighbours could hear their arguments, her tears and his quiet consolation. She wondered if they moved on to tell other neighbours, who eventually might pass the information on to those who want him dead in the first place.

Which only caused more arguments, and then...

... it made her dizzy to think of it.

_ 'After all... the walls have ears, but only people have mouths to tell others the secrets they know.'_

The thin shoji of the house certainly did nothing for the high-pitched volume of their son, Kaoru often mused, when the infant's cries caught her attention. There were many changes in the household after Kenji's birth, from sleeping habits to the family budget, but the part of it she most loved was watching him with Kenshin. The two of them looked terribly sweet together; two nearly identical faces that - when sleeping - were the perfect image of innocence and bliss that made her feel as if everything was right in the world, even if it was not, even if Kenji would wake up in a moment and start wailing, which would snap Kenshin out of his own rest, his hair clutched in his son's tiny fists.

His birth, she liked to think, was almost like a turning point for Kenshin's transition from wanderer to family man, even more so than their wedding, despite how she might frown at the thought. Having a son tied Kenshin to her closer than any vow, however strong their feelings were. In the eyes of the world, when Kenji was conceived, she was his. He was hers.

When Kenji was two years old, Kenshin spoke with her one day about his future. It was no particularly special day, when he pulled her aside after Yahiko had carried Kenji out of the dojo on his shoulders for a visit to the river. Late summer, she recalled, sometime in August.

"It is a week until Yahiko's birthday," he murmured seriously into her ear, and she blinked back surprise; it had completely passed her mind. "I have something special planned... but... would it be all right with you, koishii?"

And then he told her. Thinking back, she was most astonishingly calm when he explained. It should have been expected - Yahiko had been hoping for a similar occurrence for years, saving up diligently despite the fact that no swordsmith could do what he wished for most - but the idea that Kenshin had finally resolved - even agreed - to grant his wish was almost... inconceivable to her.

The thought of Kenshin - _Kenshin_ - without his sword was just something that didn't happen. Certainly, he had been relaxing in his sword training since their marriage, and he had not been involved in any major fights since Enishi's Jinchuu attempt, but he still had the sakabatou with him. It rested in the dojo shrine next to her father's daisho, ready for whatever his plans for it were.

However, it seemed as if his plans were not his at all.

As Yahiko left the dojo on the morning of his fifteenth birthday, the sakabatou clenched tightly in his hand, a wide, determined grin on his face, Kaoru couldn't help but think that, perhaps, it was exactly what Kenshin needed. A release from his past, a final farewell to all he knew when he wandered the country, alone and without the answers he sought for so long.

_ "So you're leaving the Shishi, Himura?"_

_Meeting is the beginning of parting._

_ "I'm more happy than sad, so..."_

_ '... sayonara...'_

~*~

I've just realized that it is next to impossible to write a melancholy/expressive fanfic while listening to Jeff Foxworthy. ^_^;;  
  
This chapter was HARD! I had very little source material to go on... it took a great deal of thinking, but when I finally got it started, I was so relieved... *_sigh_*  
  
The kotowaza (Japanese proverbs) were translated by Mir-san (as far as I know; they come from TFME, anyway) for the use of the TFME Winter Fanfic Contest. I thought they were very cool. and were quite inspirational for Kaoru's little musings, so just FYI, that's where they came from! ^_^  
  
The original title for this chapter was "Window".

_Reviewer Responses:_

**supernaturalove**: Renga poem? What's that? And thanks for such a detailed review, ^_^ Ah, good... well, you should know by now that I'm always overly nervous about this fic! Hm... hear that, Kaoru?  
**Kenshin**: I really don't think you should talk to her right now, Akai-dono.  
**Kaoru** *_scratching her collar_*: Woof!

More coming soon!


	31. Chapter 31 Neko

Disclaimer: NOT MINE! *huff*

Kendo no Go  
In The Language of Kendo  
A Fanfic in 100 Chapters  
Akai Kitsune  
~*~  
31) Neko  
~*~

Kaoru could not remember when there had not been a cat around the dojo. It had changed over the years, as she grew older and the animals lived and died for various reasons, but there had always been one small, shy cat that loitered around the property whenever it pleased itself, stealing food and making a general nuisance to her parents. She recalled the days between visits, when she would search and crane her ear for a soft, hungry cry to summon her from whatever she was doing and steal scraps from the kitchen to feed it with. It was a secret game, a single amusement that, as far as she knew, her parents never found out about.

As the years went by, she lost interest in the cat, and by the time she was living on her own, she too saw the cat as a bother. She couldn't understand how her parents had tolerated such a fickle guest, a freeloader who came and went as it pleased.

It wasn't until Kenshin came to live at the dojo that the cat actually became a permanent resident. She - the most recent cat, only a kitten really, had been identified as a she, eventually - liked to watch Kenshin cook, her wild green eyes sparkling with multiple hidden agendas as he carved the fish and boiled the vegetables, her claws kneading the wooden counter she lay on before he nudged her off to avoid getting fur in the miso. Occasionally, when Kaoru called him or some other part of the meal distracted his attention, she would snatch a morsel right beneath his fingertips. Kaoru had to congratulate her; the creature was the only one who walked as softly as the rurouni himself.

When Kenji was almost three years old, he named the cat, as the family treated themselves to fresh-cooked maple buns that Kaoru had purchased from the market that very day. The cat had sauntered in, her nose leading her forward, eyes so focused it seemed as if she lived for that moment alone. Kenji had waved to her, grinning through his little teeth and sticky cheeks, then took another bite of the bun as she trotted over to sit beside him. Immediately he placed his sugar-coated fingers into her soft fur, and giggled as she licked his chin.

"She has a scratchy tongue," he scrambled away, offering his fingers to her instead. She happily licked them clean, before concentrating on the remnants of the bun he had left on her coat. "Neko likes them, doesn't she? We should call her that, ne?"

"Maple Bun?" Kenshin repeated, raising his eyebrow with a small smile.

Kenji made a face, then shrugged. "Momiji. Is that okay, neko?" The cat responded simply by stroking her long, rough tongue against his cheek again. "Kya! Tickles!"

Kaoru placed a hand on Kenshin's arm, giving him a quick glance, then turned to her son. "Kenji, don't play with the cat while we're eating, all right?"

Kenji's sulk was echoed by the cat's sullen expression, as Kenshin gently prodded her out the door, the shoji closing behind her. Kaoru smiled apologetically at Kenji, ruffling his hair, and began to clear the dishes away, leaving Kenshin to entertain the boy. At the shoji, Momiji gave a soft, begging wail, then disappeared into the shadows to hunt for more suitable treats.

She often wandered off, much like her predecessors, but no matter how long she was gone, she always came back. At her return, as Kenji laughed and picked her up in his small, chubby arms, only to shriek and cry as her claws dug unforgivingly into his skin, Kaoru was reminded that it was, in fact, more Kenshin's cat than anyone else's.

No less than a year later, the cat was struck by a Western carriage as it raced by the dojo fence. She must have been killed instantly, Kenshin had reassured her later on, although how he might have known this, Kaoru didn't want to even guess. She could only remember how he entered the dojo that day - coming home after a long job from the police chief, all the way from Kyushu - carrying her broken, bloody body against his chest, tight and enclosed to hide her from sight. He waited at the gate, gazing imploringly at her, his eyes dark and questioning. She gently ushered Kenji inside, since he had not noticed his father's return, and approached him, concerned and saddened. He relaxed, and she realized that he had waited only to protect Kenji from seeing the dead creature.

"I didn't know," she murmured softly, placing one hand on his arm, carefully averting her eyes from the corpse he carried. "Was she just outside? Did you see it?"

"Yes," he answered, not meeting her eyes, although to which question she wasn't sure. Perhaps both.

"She left on the same day you did," Kaoru continued after a moment. "I was getting worried... but..."

"I'm going to get changed and get her cleaned," he interrupted gently. "Kenji has a right to know. But... not like this," he added calmly, taking note of the bloody, matted fur. Kaoru was reminded of the time when her fur had been so clean, so silken, so refined. The cat would have gone out of her mind to see it so dirty, had she been alive to care.

Kenshin carried the animal into the bathhouse, promising to scrub it clean later on, but she hadn't really cared, either way. She watched him disappear into the building, observing his swift, confident stride, unchanging, almost uncaring, if it was not for the wet darkness against his crimson gi, and the way his head hung down against the wind.

She felt a shiver move up her spine, her hands shaking in the chill of the early spring morning, tears streaming down her cheeks for a cat she didn't even like. Kenshin's cat, who was his and no one else's, no matter how they wished to have her, had wandered out of their lives for the last time. She had returned in the form of an empty black body, bones broken and flesh torn, against her own will, _gone, gone._

And there was no calling her back.

~*~

Momiji is actually the name of my sister's cat (named after the protagonist of Blue Seed). I hope that this isn't some morbid foreshadowing of the future for her, ^_^;;  
  
This fic was inspired partially by P.L.Nunn's "Shifting The Balance", in which the dojo cat is described as Kenshin's cat. I liked that idea, and I absolutely adore the fic. Kudos to P.L.Nunn for thinking of it!  
  
Sorry, the fic has gone melancholy again. My apologies... it has it's up and down moments. Gomen!  
  
The original title of this chapter was "Rough". 

_Reviewer Responses:_

**supernaturalove**: Ah, I see, I see... that's cool!  
  
**M**: Wow, that was a phenomenally detailed and confidence-boosting review, ^_^ Thank you so much. Kenshin... leaving? Eh? What part are you talking about, when he left for Kyoto? I didn't have Kaoru's reaction as angry because she wasn't, ^_^ That's just the continuity I always follow.  
  
**Red Ninja:** Well, I'm well on my way, so hopefully I'll have no problems reaching the end, ^_^ Other than this pesky lack-of-book hiatus, of course... *sigh*  
  
**Calger459**: I almost missed your review! O_o I have to agree, Yahiko certainly earned the sakabatou, didn't he? ^_^ And while I love Seisouhen, it's nice to ignore it and write happy endings sometimes...  
  
And a special prize of excellence goes to **Gale**, who actually took the time to e-mail me with comments and apparently gets the pretty-much-exact reaction to the fic as I intended, ^_^ I hope you keep reading! Thank you very much!


	32. Chapter 32 Shihondai

Disclaimer: NOT MINE! *huff*

Kendo no Go  
In The Language of Kendo  
A Fanfic in 100 Chapters  
Akai Kitsune  
~*~  
32) Shihondai  
~*~

Her father had been an excellent teacher, Kaoru always liked to think to herself. He had been firm, but careful, strong, but gentle, all at the same time. He had carried an air of power and authority that made his students want to excel, if only to gain approval in his watchful gaze. He accepted any and all students - young, old, weak, talented... even his small, spirited daughter who was too busy grieving for her mother to concentrate fully on her lessons.

After his death, Kaoru thought back upon her father's teachings and found how much she admired the man for all he had done. He had taken a stubborn, willful child, the very image of the woman he must have loved - secretly and quietly, throughout their entire marriage - and made her into a model student for his classes, with patience, determination, and a command that could not be dismissed or ignored. He had turned around her perspective and shown her that life did go on, and it could improve, but only if you set your heart on what you wanted yourself to be. Whenever she thought of that fact, that one, simple accomplishment that had molded her into the daughter she had wanted for him, she echoed her constant wish to be, even remotely, as good as teacher as her father had been.

When the Hitokiri Battousai began killing people in the streets in her name - the name of her school, her _father's_ school - she wanted to cry, to collapse in despair and pain and let everything - the dojo, the country, the world - fall to pieces around her. She knew it would accomplish nothing, and would in fact give the murderer the desired, satisfying reaction, but still, she could not restrain her feelings. The very idea that anyone might look upon her dojo, the sword that protects, and associate it with the name of a hitokiri, a _manslayer_, made her cringe. She knew that there was nothing she could do to regain her lost honour until the murderer's reign of the night streets was stopped.

She also knew, however, that she was going about it the wrong way. The rurouni had told her so, and she had stubbornly refused to listen, but in her heart, she knew. Knowing was not, however, admitting, and it wasn't until the last of her students left her that she realized how much she truly needed help.

What she did not know what that help would come from Hitokiri Battousai himself.

And yet not, for he himself denied the name with surprising distaste. It didn't take her long to realize why. Took her longer to admit that she still couldn't - and probably never would - fully understand this man.

Soon, however, she realized that understanding wasn't required by love. Knowing him, by what he showed her and what she saw against his will, was enough to help her learn that she wanted to be _his_, whoever he was, whatever he had been. She didn't have to know every detail of his past, grim and mournful as it must have been, nor did she have to know everything that went on in his present life - as much as she might want to beat it out of him sometimes. His secrets were often his own, hidden and closed to her heart... but it was all right, in the end. She knew what she had to in order to carry on.

She had to know that he loved her.

_He loved her._

And that was enough.

Myojin Yahiko proved himself to be a great challenge as a student, his attitude and overblown pride almost intolerable. His constant bickering and insulting comments made her bristle angrily and wonder, each and every day, why Kenshin had chosen this brash, impetuous pickpocket to be her first pupil in the wake of the false Battousai attacks. She couldn't understand what had made the rurouni even consider such a brat for the renewal of her school.

But... watching him, in the many battles he had participated in, she slowly began to see that the choice hadn't been so bad. In fact, it had not been wrong at all. She soon realized that deep within the heart of her new student, beyond the rude, obnoxious disposition that made her eyes burn, there was a fierce willfulness to be a strong warrior who could take pride in his skills as well as his name, and a stubborn nature that rivaled her own. Although he argued and complained, he worked hard, and excelled in every aspect of her teaching. He was good - or, at the very least, he was giving it his all.

She also began to understand how very much he was like her... and, in the process, began to grow into the sort of teacher her father had been. She gained a certain pride of her own. Pride in her own teaching ability...

... but most especially, pride in the one student who was willing to stay by her side throughout anything.

And she became determined to teach him to become the best kendo practitioner he could be.

~*~

Notes:

Ah, sorry this one was cut so short... I was going to continue, doing a larger section for Yahiko... but then I realized that it ties together with another chapter, O_o So you'll just have to wait for it, ^_^ Sorry...

Those who disagree with my ending point: While they still argue, Kaoru became _very_ good at dealing with Yahiko. During Jinchuu, when Yahiko was determined to learn the ougi and Kaoru was equally determined NOT to teach him, she knew exactly how to deal with his arguments in the end. I was pleasantly surprised at how wisely she spoke when she told him no.

The original title for this chapter was "Citizen". This was a terrible chapter for content. I couldn't, for the life of me, think of what to write. Shihondai means assistant master, of course, and is Kaoru's title in the Kamiya dojo.

I'm so happy to be posting this chapter. I'm still recovering from the dinner theater, O_o But it's nice to know that my muse hasn't died of exhaustion yet.

_Reviewer Responses:_

**M**: Well, the parallel was more like... Kenshin is a wanderer at heart, but no matter how often he leaves - on missions and such - he'll always come home. That was the intention. As for the timeline - as it says in the teaser, anything goes. I can write the characters when they're kids, or when Kenshin and Kaoru are married, and everything in between. There is no set timeline, but mostly I explain when the timeline changes, ^_^ Hm, maybe I'm just an exceptionally melancholy teenager... people often say that teens get depressed so easily, :P But I'm not so much depressed as addicted to depressing stuff, so...  
  
**Calger459**: Well, our family is famous for losing our cats, *sweatdrop* Our current cat is the one who's survived the longest, but I think he's just about at the end of his rope... it's sad, but, you know... maybe that chapter was a little reminiscent of that fact...

**Crazy Girl Person**: Ara, you really ARE crazy... ^_^;; Revenge of Gohei... lol... anyway, you should know by now that I update LSRV every Monday, :P barring disaster, anyway... 

_More coming soon!_


	33. Chapter 33 Ashi

Disclaimer: NOT MINE! *huff*

Kendo no Go  
In The Language of Kendo  
A Fanfic in 100 Chapters  
Akai Kitsune  
~*~  
33) Ashi  
~*~

Not long after Kenji's birth, once her fascination of his perfect hands had faded to a lesser degree, Kaoru realized that his baby smoothness was certainly not limited to just that. She learned that his feet were just as soft, just as delicate, each intricate toe accented by a tiny nail, the colour of a pale seashell on the beach. As she drew her hands along each bump and curve on the feet of her dozing baby, she also discovered that he was, in fact, rather ticklish. Her own nails soon found a new hobby and amusement, and as he grew older, she was rewarded with the treasured sound of his laughter.

She noticed, though, that as the weeks, months, and eventually years passed, the softness transformed into the rough, callused skin of a boy who moved constantly, exploring the outside world with the enchanted curiousity only a child could possess, stomping through mud, grass, and rocks, scraping and crawling, marring his beautiful, perfect feet with bruises and cuts. A part of her cried out in outrage at the world for that one, seemingly insignificant loss, even as her pride soared at the determination of her son, brushing aside pain and scars with the casual mindset she had often seen in her husband. He was, in truth, beneath his temper and his young, brash ambition, a great deal like his father.

She found a scar on Kenshin's foot one day, when he returned from a particularly tiring mission for the police chief and immediately fell down on their futon to rest, he told her, only for a few hours before starting his chores. She originally intended to let him sleep the day away, if it were possible, but Kenji's absence - he had also gone down for his daily nap - and her impish motivation prodded her to determine whether or not his feet were as ticklish as their son. She caught him smiling as she carefully tugged his tabi away, and her silent question was answered without effort. He didn't move, though, and she knew he would allow her to have her fun - for a moment, at least.

As her hand drew near his bare foot, she noticed a long, thin line of a scar trailing from the center of his foot to the heel, jagged and uneven. She traced the length with her nail, questioning, and earned a chuckle from him before he shifted away. He sat up, a broad smile on his face, but the laughter died in his throat as he caught sight of her thoughtful expression.

"Kaoru?" he asked after a moment, cautious.

She was suddenly annoyed that she allowed her inquisitiveness to make him anxious, but knew there was no point in eluding him now. "Ah, gomen... I just noticed it, that's all. I was curious..."

His smile returned, small and wistful. "It's all right. That was a mistake on my part, really... from the war, a long time ago."

Kaoru shifted closer to him, drawing his hand into her own. "Will you tell me?"

"Aa." He didn't hesitate, and she felt more comfortable with the story when she knew that he was. "I was returning from a mission-" She wasn't about to explore what the mission was, and from his tone of voice, neither was he, "And I wasn't really concentrating on what was below me so much as behind. The Shinsengumi were getting rather good at tailing me, and it didn't help that I was already wounded."

"Badly?" she interrupted quietly, her voice concerned.

He merely smiled again, giving her fingers a gentle squeeze. "No, not badly. But enough to slow me down. I had lost one of my sandals in an earlier scuffle, and it had rained that evening... in other words, the perfect combination of bad circumstances to make a tired hitokiri step on a broken sake jar and fall flat on his face."

It was such a ridiculous idea, really, that Kaoru couldn't withhold a small giggle. She ruffled his hair, smiling in sympathy, even as she murmured in his ear, "Baka."

"Aa," he said again, kissing her cheek, "Going back home is always an adventure, isn't it?"

"Home?" she echoed, her smile playful.

"Well, perhaps not home _then_," he corrected, musing. "But certainly it is now."

She snuggled closer to him, the words still dancing across her tongue.

_ 'Home...'_

Kenshin's scars were always a target for her own curousity, even in the first days of their relationship. Hitokiri Battousai was known only for the scars he received from the men he had killed - but Himura Kenshin was acknowledged because of the wounds he took while protecting those in need. She took great pride in that recognition, even if Kenshin himself could not. He saw his scars as past failures, injuries incurred when he was not strong enough to prevent them. Everything he did was torn apart and criticized, broken down with the narrow-eyed appraisal of a self-recriminatory pessimist. Nothing he did was good enough; not for him.

Kaoru often wished she could tear down his walls of self-hate and guilt, pull him back up and make him understand the good he had done for the world, for _ her_, for their son. He had taken a lonely girl, a walking target for the edge of a murderer's katana, and made a family, a real home. He had taught her what forgiveness, joy, and, yes, what love was, by merely existing. She wanted to do the same for him; make him look with his eyes open for once and see that the world did not have their backs turned to him, just because of who he was or had been. There was so much she wanted to do for him, to show that she appreciated everything he had done for _her_. But there was always smile, and his hands, gently seizing whatever burdens she might have and taking them upon himself. His heart was too giving to allow anything to slow it down.

_ 'Though maybe... maybe sometimes,_ I_ can slow him down.'_

_ 'I can do more... and I'll get him to rest once in a while. He works so hard...'_

_ 'We all do, don't we? To support each other...'_

_ '... like a real family...'_

_ 'Maybe that's why...'_

The thought made her smile, even as Kenshin worked, and Kenji played in the dirt... but mostly when the two were together, splashing in the water of the laundry bucket, Kenji nestled in the crook of Kenshin's arm, their hands wet, wrinkled, and just as identical as their hearts.

~*~

Notes:

*eyes spinning* Yet another chapter that took much longer to write than I anticipated. My apologies for the delay.

The ending was inspired by Haku Baikou's wonderful piece of fanart in which Kenshin and Kenji are doing laundry together. I would definitely recommend visiting her site, because all her work is a treat to see, ^_^

The original chapter title was "Foot", which is the translation of Ashi, of course...  


_Reviewer Responses:_

**M**: LOL, yes, I know the feeling. ^_^ Too much philisophical thought/debating over a bunch of moving paper. But... but... it's not cartoons! AAH! Anime, ANIME!! *whining* j/k... see, I take it way too seriously... ^_^;; Hm, Kaoru's mother like Tomoe? I think she would be more of a blend... in the first chapter, I noted that she did have a bit of a temper, but it was to a lesser degree. Maybe Kaoru's personality stemmed from the relationship she developed with her father after her mother's death. Who knows? I'll get into that in the future, either way...

_More coming soon!_


	34. Chapter 34 Kumo

Disclaimer: NOT MINE! *huff*

Kendo no Go  
In The Language of Kendo  
A Fanfic in 100 Chapters  
Akai Kitsune  
~*~  
34) Kumo  
~*~

Kaoru was not a very big fan of bugs. She did not scream outright, but there was a firm, unshakable distaste that would not disappear, no matter what she did or how many of the insects were squished beneath her fingers. Whenever there was one in her room, she anxiously tugged her father over to get rid of the creature. She stood at his back, hands fisted in his hakama, her eyes narrowed in defiance against the intrusion as he took care of it. It was _her_ home, and it would be kept clean, if she had anything to say about it.

Her mother seemed as disinclined to deal with small creeping things as she was, but she was quite a bit more vocal about it. More than once in her lifetime her shriek had echoed throughout the household, Kaoru and her father running over to stop whatever madman was attacking... just in time to rescue her from the spider slowly climbing down from the ceiling.

It saved the creatures from taking a dive in their meal, anyway.

Besides his strange fascination with fireflies, Kenji did not appreciate insects in his early years, either. Kaoru suddenly found the roles reversed, and it was she who came to her son's rescue when his voice cried out in terror from beyond the shoji.

"Okaasan! Spider!"

Moments later she was standing on a small stool, a scrap of rice paper between her fingers, squinting in the darkness in search of something she had no desire to touch. Kenshin probably would have gone, she mused, but he had come home tired from yet another mission, and was already dead to the world in their room. She didn't want to show her young, impressionable son that she was afraid of a spider, anyway.

"Kill it, kill it!" he called encouragingly, hiding his face in the blankets.

She was grateful, then, that she hadn't sent Kenshin. He was always overly sensitive - sometimes infuriatingly so - and such a comment, innocent and unknowing as it was, was likely to upset him. She had patience for his brooding, but she could only take so much before she drew the line. He really _had_ to stop jumping at shadows...

_Crunch_.

Kaoru winced at the feel of the spider's body compressing beneath her fingers, and quickly retreated to the ground, bearing the ruined paper with her. Kenji immediately sprang from the futon, tugging her arm until she knelt beside him and showed off her prize.

He gazed at the limp form for a long moment, then let himself fall, thumping down on the bed unhappily.

"Ken-chan? What's wrong?"

"No blood," he mumbled, sulking.

She blinked. Where on earth did the child get those notions from? She really had to talk with Yahiko... soon.

"Well," she smiled back at him, brushing aside her discomfort. "Do you feel better now?"

He brightened. "Yeah! I'm not scared of spiders! And if any come here and try to hurt you, kaasan, I'll protect you! I'll bash their heads in! Bam!" He jumped to his feet, waving his arms as if wielding a bokken and vanquishing any foes. Kaoru's eyebrow twitched.

_ 'Soon. Definitely soon.'_

Part of her knew she ought to be scolding him; no son of the Kamiya dojo should talk about bashing _anyone's_ head in. But... in all honesty, she felt a growing warmth in her heart, as the words were echoed in her mind.

_ "I'll protect you..."_

_ "Kaoru-dono, I'll protect you."_

"Come on," she said finally, "Bed time."

His fierce, delighted little smile faded at the thought, and he reluctantly crawled under the covers, snuggling with a worn, embroidered doll Sanosuke had sent over from China not long ago. He looked up at her expectantly, waiting for the ritual tucking-in that always followed.

She did tuck him in, and she did kiss his forehead with a whisper of goodnight, but instead of leaving, she curled up beside him, holding his hand as he drifted off to sleep, a smile on his face. Before she followed him into the realm of dreams, she thought briefly, guiltily, of Kenshin, who would wake up alone and wonder where she had been... but maybe he would understand.

_ "I'll protect you."_

Yes, she believed he would understand in the morning.

~*~

Notes:

Okay, I have to admit right now that this is pretty close to the original... as far as the general occurrences go. I've been trying to avoid this throughout the entire fic, but this chapter was so sweet, I really couldn't help it. I didn't want to change much, so it ended up as being, in part, my own version of what happened in the book.

Sanosuke's Chinese doll: Sano sent letters to the Kamiya dojo, and I thought briefly of him coming back for brief visits and maybe even sending over packages. It's an interesting idea, and I figured he'd find out about Kenji at some point. I'm a little unsure about how I like the idea of him taking off and not returning for years and years... sounds too lonely, ^_^;; But it depends on opinion, I suppose.

The original chapter title was "Spider", which is the definition of Kumo. Go fig, huh.

_Reviewer Responses:_

**Amie**: I know the feeling... that's why I often read the fic, review, and ignore the other reviews completely. Then I can repeat whatever they say with a clear conscience. *grin*

**Mir**: Philosophy and economics? *gag* Kidding, kidding... portraying Kaoru like this is a lot of fun. It's a nice change from what I'm used to reading, anyway...

**Calger459**: Fun? You better believe it! ^_^ Ara, lucky... Easter weekend, does that count for spring break? *grin* Although I don't get much time for writing with THAT... oh well.

_More coming soon!_


	35. Chapter 35 Sword

Disclaimer: NOT MINE! *huff*

Kendo no Go  
In The Language of Kendo  
A Fanfic in 100 Chapters  
Akai Kitsune  
~*~  
35) Sword  
~*~

Kaoru's father had died at the end of a sword, in the midst of the Seinan War that had rocked the peace of the Meiji era for a few months. It was so far away from her that Kaoru did not think it was terribly significant, until he spoke with her and told her that, in a few days, he would be leaving for Kagoshima. After that day, she kept in regular contact with the local newspaper deliverers, and collected any and all information available for the ongoing war. She did not find everything she needed to know - and, eventually, received a letter she did not want at all. Apparently her father had forgotten, despite all his teachings, to protect himself.

She nearly fell apart the day she was told of his death, shattered by the loss of the last of her true family. The visits of Tae, Genzai-sensei and his granddaughters, or the collective of neighbours and old friends did nothing to ease her grief. For a long time, even before her father's passing, she had been a woman of great independence, and the circumstances she was left in were no different in result. At the end of the day, she was alone in more ways than one.

She could not, nor would she ever blame her father for her loneliness. It was not his fault that a war had broken out halfway across the country, nor was it his fault that his opponent had been that much stronger than he. She did not have the strength or the will to hold a grudge against something that was completely beyond his ability to control.

It still hurt, though. It would always hurt.

Eventually, life returned to it's pattern, carrying on with the insistency that remained constant throughout all history. Kaoru chose to let herself be brought back to the flow of her life, lest she be left behind in the dust of a lingering past. That was not what she wanted.

So she lifted her head from the misery, bringing her smile back to its rightful placement on her lips, and continued as if her father was, if not alive, watching her with the proud approval that was knit into his very nature.

_Let what is past flow away downstream._

It seemed to be a crucial part of Kenshin's personal philosophy, for his own past was a continual search for information for her, presented in small, scattered whispers of what she had heard and what she had been told, by others or by himself. Understandably, he was most often reluctant to speak of it, unless it was not particularly painful or _she_ was particularly enthusiastic about getting an answer from him. He had never been a good liar, but he was very, very good at eluding the questions of others, even his friends.

_'Or his wife,'_ she thought unhappily, after a long bout of curious interrogation which had earned her little more than additional questions he would not answer. She was always very careful about when and what she asked him, but even the smallest, insignificant queries were enough to send him into a flustered bundle of distractions. Suddenly there was laundry to be done, or he could hear Kenji crying from down the hall, or perhaps the police chief had another job for him if he went down to headquarters and checked. Only a few days, a few hours, that's all. He'll be back with a cheerful answer soon enough.

_ 'Or long enough for the questions to leave my mind completely, anata...' _She was careful to restrain her sighs, knowing precisely what was on his mind during his silly, impulsive excuses, acknowledging the fact that _ he_ knew she knew, yet chose to ignore it.

_ 'Really, I never will understand you.'_

His stammering escapes were usually a sign, though, warning her which subjects she ought to avoid. Kenshin was exceptionally sensitive to almost everything, despite his ability to mask his emotions if he so desired, and she knew that an idle word could send him spiraling into a siege of brooding silence, or over-cheerful idiocy, depending on his general mindset of that day. Even the weather seemed to upset him; snow, she could understand, and rain only slightly less so, but she failed to understand why the first signs of spring made him slip into an unnatural quiet until she took his hand and demanded to know what, exactly, was bothering him so much. Another unanswered question.

She had, over time, learned to be careful how far along the paths of his history she dared to tread, and as she did so, she realized that he was more willing to open up to her when he initiated the conversation, not she. She held her tongue as he spoke, keeping it in check to avoid upsetting him. During playful banter and everyday conversations, she let it have free rein, but not when the difference between knowing and living in painful ignorance was so vast.

Words can, in many ways, be so much more deadly than a sword, after all.

~*~

Notes:

Oro... this was... er... interesting. I think I lost track of it somewhere in the middle, ^_^;; and was barely able to bring it back. That's what I get for not planning ahead, I guess...

The original title of this chapter was "Needle". Same basic idea... sort of... anyway...

Thanks to the 30-Hour Famine I just went through, not only am I starving, deprived of sleep (due to staying up all night and day hanging out with fellow faminers), and ready to strangle the next person who mentions pizza, but my muse is working overdrive. I managed to write five chapters in one night. O_o The others still need to be proofread, otherwise they, too, would be uploaded... soon enough, anyway. Right now I must be sleeping...

_More coming soon!_


	36. Chapter 36 Akai

Note: No, this is NOT a chapter about me, O_o  
~*~  
Kendo no Go  
In The Language of Kendo  
A Fanfic in 100 Chapters  
Akai Kitsune  
~*~  
36) Akai  
~*~  
  
The colour of blood as your sword carves its dark, wet path through a man's skull, stained for the first time. Your first kill. The colour of the sky, despite the sun's bright shining upon your face, as your heart clouds over with the overwhelming scent and feel of the life-giving liquid, as it spreads across your hands and forms a sticky bond that can never be washed, never be cleaned. 

The colour of blood that fills your vision, as a sword slashes towards you, inches from your face. The same blood that, mere moments later, streams down your face as you touch - _there_ - not focusing on the pain or the surprise that comes hand-in-hand from the receival of your first wound, but instead, the vehemence of the one who inflicts the wound, fiercely refusing to die even as his own blood leaves his body, killing him faster by the second. The blood that splashes upward as you cause the final blow, ending his suffering as well as his chance at life, however slim it may have been.

The colour of the sky as you smile into the face of the woman you love, glowing and unafraid, and ask her to be your wife. The colour of the blood, still on your hands, but slowly fading, paling in the midst of her presence, which has always been soothing, and piercing at the same time.

The colour of the blush which spreads across her cheeks, as she whispers her consent.

The colour of the blood that streams down your face, pulsing and screaming in your eardrums, louder than the battle-cry of your opponent, louder even than your own scream. The colour of the stains in the shawl you carry, once pure and pristine violet - like your eyes, warm and soothing to behold - now tainted with the foul infection of your blood, poisoned as is everything you touch.

Save one. _Save her._

The colour of blood that is loud, loud in your ears, louder than everything, but not loud enough to drown out the scent of white plums as you drive your sword through her body, your eyes wide in horror and sudden understanding, loss and brokenness.

The colour of blood that falls from your cheek to hers, mingling with your tears as she passes from the world. The colour of pain, and anger, but above all, hatred for no one but yourself.

The colour of the cheeks of your wife - never, _ever_ secondary - as she burns with her infuriated temperament, arguing heatedly with her young student over something inconsequential yet again. The colour of the bump on his head he earns from the side of her bokken, which will later develop into an admirable bruise.

The colour of the blood in your mind, as you recall how you had delivered the same form of strike in the past, with a completely different result. The feeling of annoyance, at your own inability to keep such thoughts from your mind.

The colour of the long, tattered bandanna of an old friend, whose casual comments and feckless, lounging nature were always able to banish almost anything from your head, although it did require a good punch or two which were berated at first, but later appreciated in silence. The colour of the grudges of past actions that lay between you and he, which were not coloured at all, for such grudges were nonexistent, at least in your mind. The colour of fear as you wonder, briefly and anxiously, if he would not come home, could not come home because he was dead, and such thoughts left you cold and empty.

The colour of the screaming, squirming baby, swathed in clean, honey-scented cloth and pressed into your arms, bloody and newly born. The colour of the blood that coats him, no longer holding such dark, cold memories for you, but instead the glow and glory of life, of love, of family. The knowledge that this blood is natural, and will be gone soon enough, and that its presence made the new life that much more important, that much more real.

The colour of his hair, a simple scrap of auburn atop his tiny head, revealed once the blood has been cleared. Darker than your own, closer to _hers_, but not quite close enough to please you completely. It would not spoil your joy, though; a son, _your_ son. What right did you have to complain?

_Who would?_

The colour of the face of your wife, flushed and tired, her lips pursed against the pain, yet still curving into a smile as she is given the child, her dark eyes glittering with pride and newfound motherly love.

The colour of the blood on your hands, invisible and eternally present, yet faded and no more than a distant memory as she takes one in her own hand and presses it gently to _his_ cheek, the baby's cheek, and all you feel is the brilliant fire of a new passion - the protection of life, his life, her life, renewed by the sudden presence of a boy-child who, you know, will change _your_ life forever.  
  
~*~  
  
Again, omniscient narration for the purpose of effect; this is meant to be a parallel to Chapter 28.  
  
The original chapter title was "Red". I thought of the Japanese equivalent, then realized how odd it would look for me to give a title that was part of my name, but... *shrug* It fit, ^_^

_Reviewer Responses_:

**Calger459**: How did I manage? Lots of water and a laptop in front of me, ^_^ I think I must have written for six straight hours... and then I watched music videos. *grin* This is the second time I've done it, and the first years was a LOT better (I think I was more active, though; a lot of people were just sitting around, as opposed to last year when we ran around the gym and played video games the whole time, ^_^ FUN...) but this year I had this itchy feeling I'd get bored, so I brought along the computer. I'm so glad I did...


	37. Chapter 37 Rest

Disclaimer: It ain't mine. After 37 chapters you should know that by now, ^_^

Kendo no Go  
In The Language of Kendo  
A Fanfic in 100 Chapters  
Akai Kitsune  
~*~  
37) Rest  
  
There were some nights where Kaoru simply could not sleep. She tossed and turned, moaning at the uncooperative weariness that refused to give in and send her into the bliss of unconsciousness, where Kenshin was already blithely visiting, unaware of her difficulty. She was grateful of this, despite her envy; he usually slept so lightly, and nights in which he was not disturbed by her wakefulness were rare and appreciated. His comfort was welcomed, but not at the expense of his own rest.

During any particularly long bouts of insomnia, she liked to leave their room and wander the house, soon making her way to Kenji's room. She sat beside his futon and watched him as he slept, his breath slow and deep, mouth wide open, often babbling inconsistencies and the spattering of words he was slowly learning, though most of the time content to simply snore. She wondered briefly where he had developed that habit; Kenshin didn't snore at all, and she had never received any complaints from him about her own sleeping habits - not that he would, anyway. She hoped Kenji wouldn't grow to be very loud, either way. Yahiko and Sanosuke had been bad enough.

The gentle snores of a toddler were somehow soothing, like a secret, foreign lullaby, known only to the sleeping deliverer of the song. It helped, sometimes, to clear the weary reluctance of sleep, though never completely. Just watching him, innocent, peaceful - and so well behaved - was enough to keep her awake.

If she was gone for a long time, Kenshin usually followed her, making her wonder if he ever really slept at all, or simply half-dozed until morning. She supposed it was an old habit, running deeper than she could ever understand, however morbid that thought might be.

His excuse was simple enough. "I woke up and found you gone," he smiled sympathetically, kneeling behind her to rub her shoulders in a way that always made her feel better.

"So you followed me, you nosy little rurouni," she purred, mischievous and without anger.

He chuckled softly in response. "Aa, I suppose I did. But since I am the wanderer, I must ask - why are _you_ wandering the house this time of night?"

It was a pointless question, but she was not easily bothered by his feigned ignorance; not after so long. "I couldn't sleep."

"Ah, I was snoring again."

"Kenshin!" she scolded with a broad smile, leaning back into his arms and nestling there, her head rested in the crook of his shoulder. "When do you ever snore?"

His lips were tugging themselves upward, musing. "When I dream about my master. He was as loud as a horse in his sleep."

She had to be careful to hide her giggle, to avoid waking Kenji. "Oh? And what is my husband doing dreaming about another man?"

"Oro?"

Caught between confusion and denial, Kenshin was left wordless; Kaoru decided to be merciful. "Oh, you know I'm only teasing." As the humour of the moment faded, she was drawn back to the reason she had remained awake, her eyes falling to watch their child again.

He caught her sudden change from playful to serious, and sat in silence for a time before asking the expected question.

"What are you worrying about?"

He hated it when she worried about things, she remembered. Especially when she was worrying over him; it was one of the traits she felt badly about placing on his conscience. Another thing for him to feel guilty about. Another thing for her to tell him to forget, when forgetting is impossible.

"Nothing," she murmured in response, a small, protective lie. _Everything._

He knew she was lying. He always did, it seemed. But he also knew she was trying to protect him in the only way she could. He was quiet again, his hands still at her shoulders. Finally, they moved again, wrapping loosely around her neck, resting his chin upon her neck.

"I love you," he whispered into the darkness, his eyes unreadable. "Do you know that?"

She did not respond at first, closing her eyes and allowing his presence to comfort her. Finally, she turned her head into his arm, her words muffled in his summer yukata.

"If I ever forget... I know that you'll always be here to remind me."

_'Thank you, anata. Thank you...'_

He kissed her cheek, soft and lingering close to catch the faded scent of her perfume. "You're welcome," he said with a brief smile, making her wonder if she had voiced her thoughts. But, no. It didn't really matter. He understood.  
  
~*~  
  
*gasp* A chapter in which I have nothing to say!  
  
Other than this: The original title was "Sleep". Wow. Big change.

More coming soon...


	38. Chapter 38 Battousai

Disclaimer: NOT MINE! *huff*

Kendo no Go  
In The Language of Kendo  
A Fanfic in 100 Chapters  
Akai Kitsune  
~*~  
38) Battousai  
~*~

Tales of the deadly skill of Hitokiri Battousai were constant rumours and targets of gossip from Kaoru's early childhood all the way up to her late teen years. Even during his disappearance from the light of the world, traveling in the shadows and out of the people's sight, whispers of his presence were constant and outrageous, ranging from accounts of his many assassinations to a vivid description of the man himself, a monster in the darkness who could slay a man without effort or feeling. A demon who had the ability to hide himself so well that no one, even the greatest of the Bakumatsu warriors, were able to see him. A living devil with the ability to kill in cold blood and walk away without remorse in his heart or blood on his clothes.

She was never truly afraid of such rumours; they never touched her, really, and for what reason did she have to feel fear at something that may not even exist?

When the supposed Battousai was slaughtering people in the streets in the name of the Kamiya dojo, she felt no fear, only anger. How dare he try to tarnish her name, this manslayer who knew nothing of her or her father. She never stopped to think of why he might be committing such atrocities - a killer of such demonic rumours would not care about the dreams of a single girl - and focused instead on the defeat of the apparently invincible assassin.

On the night a seemingly innocent, soft-spoken and foolish rurouni wandered into the picture and saved her life, she paid no heed to his appearance. Certainly he was unusual, with the strange-looking crimson hair and scars, but foreigners had been a part of Japan longer than she had lived - the wanderer really couldn't have been much older than she - and a swordsman was sure to have scars, especially if he was as weak as he looked. She chose to ignore - or did not think of - the combination of red hair, two crisscrossing scars, and the old stories of Battousai. She did not see that the offender didn't match the description at all.

A few days later she learned the truth, witnessing the real Battousai in action. It was not the giant, overbearing man with a cruel voice and mocking laughter, nor was it a shadowed demon whose very eyes could tell a man they were walking dead.

It was, instead, a seemingly innocent, soft-spoken and foolish rurouni, who had the ability to sweep through a room of men without killing a single one, despite the rumours that speak of his deadly swordsmanship.

The same rurouni who, calling himself a wanderer that never knew how long he would stay or when he would leave, remained in her home the rest of his life.

She thought that was who Battousai was. A quiet, confident, yet smiling swordsman who could deal with his opponents and go back to the ritual of everyday without blinking. A friendly, yet distant seeker of justice and and peace.

She realized, eventually, how wrong she really was.

She caught a brief glimpse of him when Jinei kidnapped her and nearly had her killed to draw Battousai's true nature out of Kenshin. The flicker of speech changes - _ore_, among other things - the disappearance of his eternal politeness, the dark change of his eyes. Each a strange, terrifying sign of the coming danger, combining to show one single, inevitable thing: death was coming.

Her fear - not of Battousai, as some might have believed, but rather of losing Kenshin - was so great that she somehow broke free of Jinei's trap, at the same time freeing Kenshin from the grasp of the hitokiri lurking within him. She thought this time that she knew what Battousai was.

The appearance of Saitou proved her wrong yet again.

The Kenshin that faced Jinei was angry, insulting, and fiercely calculating. He knew exactly what to do and he did it, quickly and effectively. Focusing on his opponent's weak points, he brought him down with little effort and was prepared to kill him, with only the slightest of hesitations.

The Kenshin that faced _Saitou_ was cold; colder than he had ever been. There were no words, no pleasantries, no insults. It was pure skill, deadly efficiency with the mark only a professional could carry. This _was_ Hitokiri Battousai, and despite the even fight between himself and his opponent, he was truly matchless.

_ "Come here so I can kill you."_

_ "Next swing... your head will fly."_

_ "Your life has been spared."_

_ "As long as these hands can reach them..."_

Battousai was a swordsman, born and bred. He was made of all that was cold and intolerant in the man known as Himura Kenshin, a shield, a facade with a scattering of truth to protect the part of himself which could not bear the thought of taking another life. But, as Kaoru gradually learned, it was still Kenshin, and nothing could change that. There was a strength and willpower that could never, ever be discarded, and as his wife, she knew she had to accept all of him, not just the parts with which she was most comfortable. It didn't take her long to discover, however, that there was nothing to fear. Even in his darker, more dangerous mentality, there was nothing in his mind that would allow him to hurt her.

_ 'But I knew that before, didn't I?'_

_ 'I knew that.'_

After Kyoto, there seemed to be no need for Battousai. Kenshin was able to depend on his own strength, the strength of the rurouni, fighting continually to protect, to save, but never to kill.

_ "As long as these hands can reach them, I won't allow anyone to die."_

_A sword is meant to kill_, he had told her when they first met, when his own sword had saved her from death. But he also said how much he wished that her dream would someday become reality.

_ 'You are making it reality, love,'_ she thought to herself, a smile spreading across her face. _'Each time you use your sword for the sake of another... you are proving that those words are wrong.'_

_ '... I'm so glad.'_

_ "I'll protect you."_

The world no longer needed the sword of the manslayer, Battousai, anymore... but she was happy to have him with her, nonetheless.

~*~

Notes:

Yay, the fifth promised chapter, ^_^ I'll be taking a bit of a break, now... my poor muse has burned out...

The ending was pretty mixed up. Sorry... I wrote half of it and thought, "Am I getting sidetracked?" But once the muse has you... well, you know.

The original title was "Anger", and didn't really help me at all... but everyone knows what happens when Kenshin gets angry, ^_^

_Reviewer Responses:_

**Calger459**: Boo! Sorry, going for creepy, there. *grin* Ouch, bad, bad joke... hope you had fun in NYC. *sighs enviously* Oh, to travel... someday...

**M**: Mean and overly aloof? Even if I did enjoy Seisouhen, I don't think I could ever do that to poor Kenshin, ^_^ He deserves so much more. I want to keep his character as consistent as possible.

**Red Ninja**: When you're sitting around a 4 in the morning with a water bottle, a laptop, and a fiercing growling stomach, you're willing to do just about ANYTHING to get your mind of food, ^_^

**Crazy Girl Person**: Well, I think the reason I'm starting to like Kenji is because he's pretty cute to work with as a kid. I never really paid much attention to him before, but now that it's a pretty constant focus on only the Himura family, I have to be able to write him. And I generally are unable to write characters I don't like... so maybe it's just a mildly growing affection, ^_^ Seisouhen was a bad example of him, although he DID have a rather good reason to be angry at his father in it. I have to sympathize with the kid for that. Oh, you poor girl. Working on Easter?

_More coming soon!_


	39. Chapter 39 Tatami

Disclaimer: NOT MINE! *huff*

Kendo no Go  
In The Language of Kendo  
A Fanfic in 100 Chapters  
Akai Kitsune  
~*~  
39) Tatami  
~*~

Most of the time, Kaoru did not mind Kenshin's extended favours to the police chief and his various government employers. They kept him busy - which was good - and they paid well - which was _very_ good - but it was only when the "extended" missions were stretched, so far to make her wonder if he was ever coming home, that she grew annoyed with his disappearances. During his absence, she would tackle her own job and numerous chores with a sharp vehemence, so much that even Yahiko was wary to irritate her on certain days. She couldn't really help it, though; what woman wouldn't be angry when her husband was too giving of himself to ever say no to those in need of his aid?

So, naturally, she found ways to distract herself until he returned, sweaty, tired, and bearing his own quiet frustration and contained anger. He would kiss her cheek, hold her for a long moment, his eyes carrying a distant look - as if he couldn't really see her, as if he couldn't imagine finally being home again - and would whisper those sweet words, beautiful, tantalizing, and oh so familiar to her.

"Tadaima, koishii."

And her eyes would water, and he would ask what was wrong, but it was the steam of the miso she was cooking, or the onions she had chopped, or a reaction from too many spices, and it wasn't because she was happy, so very happy that he was home, finally _home._

When he was gone, she liked to cook. A lot. Kenji complained just as much, wailing that it was too much, and that he had had enough, and that Yahiko-niichan would like it better, and he was full, so full mommy and could he go play with the cat now, please?

But the cat was dead, of course, and daddy was coming home soon, so couldn't he just wait and finish his dinner like a nice, quiet little boy?

No.

_'Why aren't things ever easy?'_

_'Baka. When have things ever been easy, Kaoru? You used to love challenges.'_

_'But Kenshin always used to be here to help.'_

She always felt guilty for her terribly unfair thoughts, afterwards. It had, after all, been _her_ idea that he leave the dojo more often, find some sort of job or regular income, although she had hoped that he would find something a little more local, instead of becoming the government's own little errand-boy. She couldn't help but remember, bitterly and with a fierce protectiveness, the "errand" against a certain revenge-seeking hitokiri which had nearly cost her rurouni his life. He did not, in any way, owe them anything.

Yet he still left his home, time and time again, for their sake, at their beck and call. He was so much like the leaves of fall - the same leaves that Sanosuke had described as he poured over the great tale of Kenshin's battle with Shishio, the ones which had snapped under the growing pressure of his ken-ki as he miraculously returned to life to make his final stand against the madman - allowing his life to be pushed and carried by the wind.

_"Sessha wa rurouni."_

_ "It is time to wander again..."_

Sometimes she wished - selfishly, for her sake and Kenji's - he could find the strength in his heart to, just once, refuse to give his aid. Sometimes she wished she had never encouraged his wanderings.

Sometimes - although the thought left her throat dry and her heart empty - she wished he could be a different sort of person, if only so she knew he would always be with her.

Chief Uramura came to visit the dojo on a strangely cold day, little less than a week from Kenji's fourth birthday. He had always been civil to them all, and Kenji liked him well enough, so Kaoru welcomed him into their home and invited him to dinner. Kenshin had fortunately made a run to the market that afternoon, so naturally she offered to cook the fresh fish he had purchased while they spoke in the other room. She had no doubt what it was that they would be discussing.

Kenshin had missed Kenji's last birthday; a mission which had gone too long, a promise broken in an already fragile relationship. His bond with Kenji was scattered: at times the boy loved him dearly, and at others would have nothing to do with him. Kenshin welcomed any and all affection he was given, yet never resented being slighted - although, knowing it was mostly his own fault, he regretted it. If Uramura's request was what she suspected it was, he would no doubt be absent again.

Bringing the rice pot over to the crackling fire in the center of the kitchen, she slammed it down with loud vehemence, hoping - childishly, really, but who could help it? - that both men heard it and took her meaning.

Kenshin did, quite pointedly.

In the middle of chopping the vegetables, her knife forming a resounding _-thwack-_ against the cutting board, Kenshin's voice, curious and concerned, called out to her from the other room.

"Kaoru? Is something burning?"

She was about to reply that no, water boiled, it did not burn, when she realized, suddenly, that she could smell smoke. Slowly, almost dreading the sight and cursing whatever gods liked to make her life miserable, she turned around.

Her shriek was enough of a sign for Kenshin, and he burst into the kitchen, staring in surprise at the scene before him, as Kaoru took a hesitant step towards the pot of heated water, in an attempt to extinguish the flames quickly spreading across a tatami beside the fire pit. Cursing under his breath, he swiftly moved her aside and grasped the burning mat, carrying it outside towards the well. She winced, hearing a sharp cry of alarm, a low hiss, and his hard breathing, as the flaming material was doused in the water. After a long moment, he returned, gently favouring a hand - his sword hand, she noticed - with his teeth gritted in barely concealed pain. Kaoru glanced back at the chief, who was peering into the kitchen with surprise in his expression. Kenshin looked at her, then at him, then smiled softly. "Sumanu," he bowed his head slightly, "I think dinner will be delayed."

As if that were the only thing that mattered.

"I'm sorry," she apologized for what must have been the fiftieth time, carefully bandaging the burns on his hand, "Does it still hurt?"

"Iya," he murmured, his eyes lowered, watching her work. "The salve helped a great deal."

She was silent at that, sending unvoiced thanks to Megumi and her gift of her family's special medicine.

Uramura fiddled with his glasses for a moment, coughing quietly. "Himura-san," he started after a moment, "I'm sorry for whatever disturbances I have caused in your home. Please accept my apologies."

Kenshin shook his head. "No apologies are necessary, Uramura-dono."

The police chief nodded, not in agreement, but simply acknowledging the dismissal. "I don't suppose we could continue our discussion tomorrow afternoon, at some point...?"

Kaoru's hands froze for a moment against his. Her eyes flickered to where Kenji was playing with a small top in the corner, blissfully unaware of the coming celebration and her sudden burst of anger at the extreme unfairness of life.

_'So he'll leave again, and he'll miss it... and he'll be sorry for it, as always, but it can't fix whatever damage is being done between himself and Kenji...'_

_'... someday he'll learn, won't he?'_

_'Won't you, Kenshin? Please?'_

"Uramura-dono," Kenshin raised his head, his eyes full of stubbornness and iron resolve. "I'm afraid I can't accept the job this time. I have already made commitment to my family, and I will not break that."

Kaoru stared at him, her eyes wide and shining with hopeful joy. He sent her a small smile, brushing his thumb lightly across her cheek.

Uramura watched them for a moment, then nodded again. "Hai. I suppose that's for the best. I will see you another day, then."

"Another day," Kenshin murmured. Kaoru smiled back at him, brightly and without restraint.

_Someday._  
  
~*~  
  
I hate ICQ. Really.  
  
This chapter was almost completely rewritten, due to a certain program's crashing. *glares at ICQ and attacks it with a mallet* As such, my heart really wasn't in it the second time around. I hope you'll forgive me for that. I don't write well when I'm irritated.  
  
This chapter, in the original book, titled "Carpet", was by far the most pointless chapter I have ever read in my life. That was a very cruel straw on the camel's back of muse aggravation. Thankfully I had some nice, inspirational CDs (and thanks to Calger-san I have a new obsession with Peter Gabriel, O_o) so I was able to cough up something. The idea of Kenshin dueling with a flaming tatami amused me, anyway. ^_^

_  
Reviewer Responses:_

**carmen**: That's the intention, really... I wanted to explore on a deeper level (ie. without having to concentrate on plotline or new characters) the marriage and usual relationship between Kenshin and Kaoru. And, of course, the other characters, but less so, ^_^ Thanks for the review.  
  
**M**: Sorry if that wasn't clear. All the thoughts in that chapter were by Kaoru. The italicized quotations ("...") were Kenshin's words, but the thoughts were Kaoru's. I can write love? Really? Good to hear. I'll join in with your frustration. Let's have a boyfriend-less party, ^_^  
  
**Calger459**: Just in time for a new chapter, ^_~ I think the muse was burned out because she didn't want to write _this_ chapter... I know _I_ didn't, but... it turned out all right, ^_^

_More coming soon!_


	40. Chapter 40 Daughter

Disclaimer: NOT MINE! *huff*

Kendo no Go  
In The Language of Kendo  
A Fanfic in 100 Chapters  
Akai Kitsune  
~*~  
40) Daughter  
~*~

**girl ****_n._** onna no ko. **1.** a female child. **2.** a young, or relatively young, unmarried woman. **3.** a female servant or employee. **4.** a woman of any age, married or single. **5.** a sweetheart; also, one's wife. _See also_ **GIRLFRIEND, GIRLHOOD, GIRLIE, GIRLISH, KENDO GIRL.**

During her pregnancy, Kaoru fervently hoped for a baby girl. Being the first-born and a girl herself - as well as an only child - she knew exactly how to raise her, although she lacked most skills that young women would receive. But there was time enough for that, really.

She loved to go clothes shopping with Kenshin, cooing and coddling over the tiny swathes of clothing a newborn would wear, brushing her fingers across cotton kimonos made for a little girl-child, bright colours and patterns that were, in her mind, perfect. She could see the child in her mind's eye: dark hair, beautiful violet eyes - no matter what, the baby just _had_ to have Kenshin's eyes - short, but that was expected considering the size of her parents. And naturally, a silk indigo ribbon for her hair, though the significance would be lost on her. She didn't have to know.

Kenshin always smiled at her, as she pointed out the tiny outfits with bright eyes and joyful laughter. He smiled, but he didn't answer her the way she wanted him to.

He said yes, it was cute, and yes, it would look wonderful on a little baby girl.

He didn't say that yes, it was cute, and yes, it would look wonderful on _their_ little baby girl.

She wondered if he didn't want a girl, or in the least, not as much as she did. He was a swordsman... and swordsmen always wanted male heirs, didn't they?

_ "I'm not passing down my techniques to anyone."_

_Anyone _at all.

_ 'So what is he so secretive about?'_

It was infuriating, really. Even if he didn't care what the child was, as he claimed, he could at least show a little enthusiasm.

Such as the enthusiasm shown when he held up a small training gi, his eyes knowing as he told her it would suit a practitioner of the Kamiya Kasshin style very well. Or his smiling face as he weighed a short bokken in his hands, testing it's swing with a practiced hand. Or his laughter when she held up a soft pink kimono, raising her eyebrow meaningfully.

"Sessha's gi is _mostly_ red, you know," he murmured in her ear, eliciting a giggle and a gentle elbow in his gut.

Or his hand carefully squeezing hers - as if she were fragile, yet still, unmistakably, _his_ Kaoru - as she discussed sizes and custom makings for a girl with the shopkeeper, a plump, fervent woman with an eye for sales and prospective buyers. He was careful to keep the discussions limited only to the planning stages, to avoid any unnecessary purchases. Which, if course, annoyed her to no end; how was he to know whether or not they were unnecessary?

Yes, she very dearly wanted a little girl; to hug, to hold, and to do for her all the things she never received as a child, spending most of her time with her father, learning more how to be a boy than a girl. She wanted to learn how to be a lady as her daughter grew up, so she, in turn, could teach the child how to act properly.

After Kenji - her _son_ - was born, she learned that wanting something did not always mean you were to receive it. But, more importantly, she learned that, from a mother's viewpoint, what you received was always, in the end, something you truly wanted more than anything else in your heart.

~*~  
  
I bet you thought I'd write her as being disappointed. So bleah to you, then! ^_^  
  
The original chapter was titled "Girl".

Hey everyone, the Rurouni Kenshin Reader's Choice Awards are finally open for nominations! So pick your favourite fanfics and go vote! Go on, go! ^_^ Many thanks to Ariane and Sevarem for making this year's awards a possibility again, and please, PLEASE do not pester them or try to break the rules. No award is worth a win if it requires cheating. Keep that in mind, ^_~  
  
http: // rkawards .gloriousforest .net /  
(copy-paste and remove the spaces, k?)

_  
Reviewer Responses:_

**Crazy Girl Person**: I agree, that was pretty weird of Sano... but him being there would kinda mess up Kenshin and Kaoru's reunion, so... *shrug* And Kenji is nice in this story. Or at least, I'm trying to make him nice, ^_^  
  
**Aimi-chan**: I will, without trouble (I hope...)!  
  
**Calger459**: Agreed. Baka Kenshin has to learn how to say no! ^_^  
  
**Cherry6124**: Was this soon enough? ^_~  
  
**Michiru Kashyuuno**: No trouble. I'm a delinquent for reviewing sometimes too. *huggles Kenshin* Of course he's cute, aren't you, Ken-chan?  
Kenshin: You're messing up my hair, Akai-dono.

_More coming soon!_


	41. Chapter 41 Fall

Disclaimer: NOT MINE! *huff*

Kendo no Go  
In The Language of Kendo  
A Fanfic in 100 Chapters  
Akai Kitsune  
~*~  
41) Fall  
~*~

Kenshin had a great deal of things in his past that he wished he could forget, easily or not, but some of his oldest memories were that of his long, grueling lessons with his master. Hiko Seijurou was no easy teacher, and he was by far one of the strongest men - physically and mentally - that Kenshin knew or could think of. But he could be, and was, quite cruel at times.

It wasn't a harmful sort of cruelty, really. Kenshin had to acknowledge that fact, and he most often did. He knew that much of what his master did and said was to help him grow, to mold his character into a stronger, more assertive personage. Their scattered bickering - usually ending in his frustration and his master's amusement - showed him how to argue, how to defend himself with more than simply a sword. It taught him to use his wit, the gradual stream of knowledge he acquired during his early years, although it was rare that his mind - immature and underdeveloped as it was - was able to triumph over his master's remarks. Much later in life, Kenshin was able to think back and appreciate - to a certain extent - such lessons.

It didn't change the fact that as a teenager, and a perfectly intelligent young adult - as he thought himself to be - he resented the majority of Hiko's insults, whether they were subtle, or blunt as his sakabatou.

But, no more than the reverse-blade, Hiko was not as blunt and obvious as he seemed. His curt words and brusque tone served to infuriate people, but eventually Kenshin came to sense that the older, more experienced swordsman was giving _him_ experience, showing him the ways of the world in order to better prepare him for the type of statements he was to receive when he, in turn, was left to face the world alone. A joking word from his master, maddening as it may be, was infinitely less harmful than the snide insults of a challenger out to cause his temper to rise, hoping that a mistake on his part may end in his death.

Whatever he did, Hiko Seijurou had a reason for it, the truth hidden behind his obscurity and tempered intelligence - like a sword - from his idiot pupil.

Despite his master's instantaneously bestowed nickname, Kenshin knew he was not, in fact, stupid. Slow at times, certainly; naive, at others; stubborn to the point of foolishness, almost on a daily basis. But not stupid. A student of such a devoted and complex sword style could not afford to be stupid, and Hitokiri Battousai would not have survived five years of war purely on luck and brute strength - both of which he seemed to lack very badly.

Using his mind, instead of his sword, amused him at many points in his life, and he was almost ashamed to admit that he was very much like his master. He did not often take delight in tearing apart another's confidence or state of mind, but he had the sense to recognize when it was deserved or needed. A Mitsurugi master desperately required the ability to gauge his opponent's weaknesses to be used against them, allowing them to fall to pieces, sometimes without a sword ever being drawn. A swordsman had more than a single strength, more than just the capacity to maneuver the wrist and body for the most efficient attack.

Sometimes the most efficient attack was to do nothing but speak, from your heart, soul, and mind.

He admitted quite easily that talking an opponent out of a battle did not always work. Some men were simply too caught in their own ideals to even consider that of another. Some believed the same standards of life, yet carried them out in a different manner. Some were simply insane, beyond the point where logic and reasoning would pierce the layers of personal desire.

Jin'ei, Saitou, Shishio. He had faced many battles which, had there not been some interception of fate or circumstance, might have ended by a death by his hand.

Perhaps he had more luck than he assumed.

Battles that involved less physical and more verbal contact was weary, demanding work, so often ending in more pain for him than the one he fought against. But he didn't care; his lost blood was nothing, if it prevented the blood of another from falling. He had caused enough blood to spill in his lifetime. His words were often able to help other men cease their thoughtless acts, to show them what pain formed from making the choices he had made.

Sanosuke - first and foremost, his greatest triumph, the one he was most and eternally grateful for - Raijuuta, Aoshi. Those who disappeared, those who wandered and returned, those who remained near to learn more, to continue to grow.

Even Enishi, the man hell-bent on his death to the point where he was willing to shatter another man's soul into a thousand fragments, had, in the end, been forced to surrender under the weight of his carefully chosen words, bearing guilty, shame, and heartsick anger. Kenshin himself felt the most guilt over that defeat; it was a death he certainly deserved, but refused to submit to, if only for the sake of sparing his already suffering brother-in-law such pain.

The pain which stemmed from taking the life of one to whom he might have been - in another life, another circumstance, or simply a little more time - closer to.

He was very grateful Enishi was still alive. He had thought so, even as he lay broken and lifeless in Rakuninmura, even as Sanosuke and Misao called his name, demanding he rise and avenge his lost love.

_ "We have to kill Yukishiro Enishi!"_

And is he dead?

Who knows.

_ 'But it was not by my hand.'_

_ 'I can feel remorse at his grief, at his lifelong agony of living alone and distrustful, but I will never live with his blood on my hands.'_

_ 'The blood in my mouth - as I spoke the words which must have broken his heart's shield of ice and hatred - was enough of a bitter taste for me.'_

_ 'No more.'_

He had not fallen so far, in all his years, as to seek revenge. Not when he himself felt so deserving of it.

_ 'How many swords have I turned aside, striving to bring honour and glory to a soul vanished by my hands? How many cries of death and justified hate have been left ringing in my ears for every black envelope delivered into those same hands?'_

_ 'I have no right... no right to seek revenge for anything.'_

He wondered how his shishou would have to say at that. But, in a way, he knew.

_ "Baka deshi."_

Some things were never meant to change, no matter how much the world shifted around it.

~*~  
  
Readers of LSRV will recognize Kenshin's last little thought train. Yes, it's a little recycled, but I couldn't get it out of my head, ^_^ It just made too much sense.  
  
The original title of this chapter was "High". The subject changed entirely, but in the book it was kind of... weird... so... *shrug*

_  
Reviewer Responses:_

**Michiru Kashyuuno**: I live to deliver, ^_^ That chapter was fun... I'm writing a parallel to it in the future, so watch for it, ^_~  
  
**marstanuki**: I'll try to keep going, ^_^ as much as it wants to go... and if it wants to stop, I'll beat it with a stick. Heh heh heh...

_More coming soon!_


	42. Chapter 42 Sensei

Disclaimer: NOT MINE! *huff*

Kendo no Go  
In The Language of Kendo  
A Fanfic in 100 Chapters  
Akai Kitsune  
~*~  
42) Sensei  
~*~

When Kaoru first began teaching in her father's dojo by herself, she wasn't sure what to expect. She had taken care of the finances before - that was a woman's duty in the household, after all, and despite her unique upbringing, she had known that - but she had never been instructed to actually bring that money into the budget. Her position had been, since her father had taught her all the techniques and tested her skills as was required, Assistant Master, and there she stayed for many years.

She liked the feel of her title, more than she vocalized. It gave her confidence - she had strength enough to impress her _father_, critical and unyielding man that he was - yet humbleness - there was still a position above her, waiting, and there would always be someone better.

She had been teaching for only a few months when she received word that her father had been killed. The lessons had stopped, then, for some time... but she found that she could not escape kendo - despite the pain, despite the memories it brought to her mind - for very long before it thrust its way back into her life.

A little before she and Kenshin were married, she decided it was time she became the official master of the Kamiya dojo. Yahiko's skill was growing quickly, and his mastery of the ougi was so startling, she knew he would not remain as a simple student for long. She had known for a long time that he was no ordinary pupil; he had a strength that came with experience like none other she had seen before.

He deserved a true sensei of the Kamiya Kasshin style, with a full title of mastery. The dojo - her _father's_ dojo - had been without a full master for too long.

Kenshin assisted her with the last trials - stumbling through objections, laughing among protests at his teaching skills, but finally recognizing her need as above his concern - and proved himself to be very proficient as a teacher, despite his dismissal of such abilities. She found it to be an interesting and enjoyable change; herself as a student again, with Kenshin of all people as instructor, helping her to realize the true meaning of the Kamiya Kasshin style's final tests.

_The sword that protects._

There was so much that was demanded of one who decided to bear those four, small words.

She was prepared for the challenge, but she was not quite prepared for the pride that would come with it. It was a healthy, beautiful pride, and she found that it had stemmed mostly from Kenshin, not herself. The glow in his eyes, warm and admiring, as he looked at the newly decorated plaque bearing her name and title. He had painted it himself, as a gift to her, and while she was not impressed with his handwriting - it was odd, really, how one so efficient with his hands in all other aspects could not form his kanji delicately - she was so touched by the act of sentiment that she hung it without complaint. _Much_ complaint, anyway. She could not bring herself to object at the sight of her name against the wall, in the proper position of master.

Master.

It brought a light flutter to her heart that she could not describe, could not even begin to explain. It made her feel closer to her father, more so than she had felt even when he had been alive. It was a strange thought, and might have been disturbing had it not brought her such delight.

_Master_.

His arm was around her shoulders, his head rested against her hair, his soft whisper in her ear.

_ "Congratulations, Kaoru-chan."_

And yes, it was Kenshin, and yes, he was so much better than she was or could ever be, but for a moment - only for a moment - she allowed herself to think that it was her father, proud, stern, and exceedingly hard to please, who congratulated her and held her close as she watched the small piece of her new life hang upon the dojo wall.  


~*~

The muse is in Happy Mode, today, ^_^ Cheers for more chapters! *muse dies in the corner* Well, that was short-lived.  
  
Many thanks to ChaosBurnFlame for allowing me to use his fanfic, "Tanuki to Ryuu", as a reference for this chapter. His thoughts on Kaoru's mastery of the Kamiya Kasshin style were intriguing and I couldn't help but use them. If you haven't read his fic, I highly recommend you do, because I know I enjoy it.  
  
The chapter's original title was "Working". Yet another chapter where I had to come up with material all my own... *shrug* Well, it's better that way, anyway, ^_^

_  
Reviewer Responses:_

**bitchy brunette: **(for when you get this far) *raises hand defensively*... whatever gave you the implication that I hated Kaoru? I don't hate her, and I never said I did. She's one of my favourite female characters, and that's why I write about her so much in this fic, ^_^

**Calger459**: Yes, psychobabble all the way... sometimes it feels like that's exactly what it is, because he's so confusing, O_o But we all try, don't we...  
  
**marstanuki**: *head explodes* Don't DO that to me, it's scary, ^_^;;

_More coming soon!_


	43. Chapter 43 Bitter

Disclaimer: NOT MINE! *huff*

Kendo no Go  
In The Language of Kendo  
A Fanfic in 100 Chapters  
Akai Kitsune  
~*~  
43) Bitter  
~*~

Memories of the Bakumatsu, during his time as the hitokiri, were often hard for Kenshin, whether he discussed them openly - which was rare - or when he silently considered them - which was almost on a daily basis. It made Kaoru wonder, sometimes, why he didn't speak of whatever good memories he had - and he must have, really; didn't everyone? - more often. She tried to do so herself, as an encouraging tactic, but he feigned that infuriating innocent look and smiled with her, offering nothing in return.

She could understand his feelings in Kyoto - that was, after all, the single place in all Japan where he had spent five years of his life doing nothing more than killing men at the whim of his masters - but outside of the city, at home again, his secrecy confused her.

_ "... for Kenshin, this is a city full of bitter memories..."_

Home. What was home, to him?

Was that why?

_ "Tadaima de gozaru."_

_ "That was the first time I'd said those words ever since I began wandering..."_

Perhaps home was, for him, a refuge from such memories, a way to avoid speaking of his past.

He had spent so much time running from it, trying to escape it...

_ 'Maybe... maybe he thinks about it... to reconcile with it. To meet it head on, and...'_

_ '... and...'_

_ "It's a little lonely, but..."_

Kenji had the most enduring pout she had ever seen, and although she found it adorable, Kaoru couldn't help but frown at the sight. His misery caused her own, although she was never sure who to scold, really.

Such as the time Kenji ran into the house, sniffling and scowling, covered from head to toe in mud. She looked down from making dinner and gaped at him, unable to do anything as he rushed to her, wrapping dirt-encrusted arms around her legs.

"Kenji, what on earth is wrong?"

Kenshin appeared in the doorway, smiling apologetically, looking rather guilty. She raised an eyebrow at him, wondering what he had done now.

Kenji mumbled something unintelligible into her kimono, doing his best to remove the mud from his body and place it onto hers. She wasn't impressed.

Carefully extracting him from his grasping hug, she knelt beside him, gently repeating her question.

His lower lip puffed out a bit, annoyed. "Tousan laughed at me," he said sulkily.

Kaoru blinked. "Hm?"

"I wanted to help him with the garden, because there's a lot of plants, and... I tripped and fell." Another sniffle. "I didn't mean to spill the seeds, but... tousan laughed at me..."

Ah, and it was her son, her silly, sensitive son, jumping to conclusions again. She was surprised; it was rare that Kenshin laughed, really, and it was never over something trivial. He certainly didn't make a habit of laughing at his son's expense.

Kaoru looked up to Kenshin, and he approached, tugging softly on Kenji's gi to get his attention. "Kenji, I didn't mean to laugh. It wasn't at you - I don't care about the seeds, you know..."

Kenji stared at his toes, his lips pursed into a tight frown. "Then why?"

Kenshin chuckled again, tugging the boy close to sit on his knee. "Actually, it's such a silly reason, and I'm sorry you're so upset. When I was a little boy, I used to help my father in the fields as much as I could."

Kaoru blinked again, astonished by the choice of discussion as she returned to the meal.

"But I was so little, I couldn't do as much as you. So I would trip and stumble a lot," Kenshin continued, not noticing his wife's curious eye. Kenji listened attentively, his face no longer pouting or tearful. "One day I was carrying seeds for my father, and I tripped on an old root, tumbling straight into the mud." He touched his son's little nose, earning a giggle. "Just like you. That's why I laughed; because I was remembering when I did the same thing."

Kenji smiled back at him, jumping up and tugging his father's hand. "Ne, tousan, let's go back and find the seeds! What did your tousan do?"

"Well, he laughed at me a little, and helped me up..."

Kaoru listened to their voices as they disappeared outside, cheerful and enthusiastic yet again. She realized, then, that she didn't need to know all of Kenshin's past in a long, extended story that brought him nothing but misery in the end. His silence after the revelation of his first marriage should have told her that much.

_ 'But... small stories... a little bit at a time...'_

_ 'For me... for Kenji...'_

_ 'It doesn't hurt. He can smile, then.'_

_ 'It's not so bitter... not so hurtful.'_

_ '... so... I'll wait, Kenshin. I'll let you tell me on your own.'_

~*~

I have to say, I rather enjoy changing the storyline so that it specifically does not match Seisouhen. Patching the shaky relationship between Kenshin and Kenji, bit by bit, is too enjoyable to spoil that. Now I regret making the early chapters as Seisouhen-ish as they are. I may go back and do a bit of a rewrite at some point in time.  
  
The original chapter title was "Sour". It took me a while to figure this one out. -_- I hate it when I get stuck, especially because the chapters are so short. *shrug* Oh well.  
  
Quotes come from maigo-chan's RuroKen Translations.

_  
Reviewer Responses:_

**Calger459**: *steams with obscene jealousy* You're going WHERE?! MOU! What is it, a teacher exchange program or something? Unfair, unfair! *sulks for a while* Well, I hope you liked the ending for this one, anyway, ^_^ Be sure to take lots and lots of pictures!  



	44. Chapter 44 Tadaima

Disclaimer: NOT MINE! *huff*

Kendo no Go  
In The Language of Kendo  
A Fanfic in 100 Chapters  
Akai Kitsune  
~*~  
44) Tadaima  
~*~

When he was home, she was happy.

It was no facade, no mask, no carefully controlled joy that almost everyone was fooled by.

When he was _home_, she was _happy_.

And when he was not home, she did her best.

Kenshin tried _his_ best to keep his errands and missions to a minimum. He seemed to be able to sense her constant discomfort, her suppressed resentment for what she had encouraged him to do.

_ "If you feel restrained,"_ she had told him once, _"Then don't let me hold you back. I think I can understand it, a little... and I can understand more if you tell me."_

_ "Tell me what you want."_

_I want..._

_ "Just... come home, ne?"_

_ "Come home..."_

_I'll always..._

"Tadaima."

She loved those words with all her heart. It was a secret game between them, between Kaoru and her wandering husband. Only those who were truly close to them understood it, from an outsider's observation, but no one felt it as deeply as they did.

"Okaerinasai."

Kenji didn't understand; he had not been there, hadn't seen her when he first left them, hadn't seen their first reunion, hadn't seen her hold out her hand and smile, a welcome on her lips and that same, secret love in her eyes.

Hadn't seen the cold, lonely shadows in his eyes fade away, melting in the midst of his newfound joy.

_ "Tadaima."_

Kenshin often left for his missions in the morning, although it was not a consistent occurance. Sometimes the police chief would send an urgent message in the middle of the evening, desperate and anxious for aid. He would go, reluctant, tired, and even annoyed, and she would watch his back disappear through the gate, her heart torn between pride and selfish anger.

But always, every time he came home, it was at night, after she had set Kenji down and gone to bed herself. He never explained to her why, but she suspected that he enjoyed their morning rendezvous. She had always been far more cheerful in the morning than late at night.

So he returned at night, changing swiftly and silently, slipping between the covers to join her in her rest, careful not to disturb her.

It was strange, really, how he never realized that she was awake all along, feigning sleep, trying to rest, waiting for him all along. He never realized that, for the entire night, after he fell asleep, she watched him, her hands twisted and twined through his hair, her eyes glistening with tears.

_ 'As long as you are here...'_

_ '... home...'_

It was strange, how she watched him the entire night, yet always knew how to fall asleep just as he was waking, to give _him_ the pleasure of watching her, as she knew he did, to let him touch her cheek, her hair, her lips, and to wake up, greeting his sleepy violet eyes, glittering with love and mirth.

"Tadaima," he always murmured, pressing his lips to hers.

"Okaerinasai," she responded quietly, in and around his kiss.

_'Our secret.'_

_'Our home.'_

_"I love you."_

_I'll always..._

~*~

Now everyone, say it with me: Awwww...  
  
I just came home from a wedding, so I had to write mush to get it out of my system. Yes, even the morbid kitsune lets WAFF get the best of her sometimes.  
  
This chapter's title was originally "Earth". Interesting idea, but I wanted to do my own thing, ^_^


	45. Chapter 45 Lie

Disclaimer: Not mine! *huff*

~*~

Kendo no Go  
In The Language of Kendo  
A Fanfic in 100 Chapters  
Akai Kitsune  
~*~  
45) Lie  
~*~

Kenshin was a terrible liar.

He could keep secrets, certainly; he had a great many things he kept easily concealed from his friends, most of which were never exposed in his entire lifetime. But when he was asked of something, any question in which he had to answer whether he liked it or not...

_ 'He can't lie to save his life,'_ Kaoru thought to herself, grateful, yet reluctant to admit to the fact. Japan's finest swordsman, yet he was unable to look someone in the eyes and tell them anything but the truth.

_ 'Because his whole life, ever since the end of the Bakumatsu, has revolved around finding the truth, wasn't it?'_

_ '_His_ truth...'_

If there was one good thing about Sanosuke, it was certainly his uncanny ability to get Kenshin out of trouble, just as surely as the rurouni ended knee-deep in it due to Sano's coaxing. Sano could lie, snoop, sneak, and weasel his way out of nearly everything, always with the same easygoing grin on his face. That was one of the deepest impressions of him Kaoru kept in her heart, even after the street fighter's departure from the country.

He could always make Kenshin laugh.

Kaoru admired that quality, even as her mind cried out to be outrageously jealous, even angry, at the idea. _She_ made Kenshin smile. _She_ brought him happiness. _She_ gave him a home.

But Sanosuke made him laugh.

She loved the sound of his voice when he laughed. The sound of pure delight, pure bliss, pure amusement, that everything was right in the world, right enough so that an assassin could treasure a moment by showing the ones he loved that he was happy.

He was _happy_.

And he couldn't lie about it, either.

Kenji made him laugh. Kaoru took pride in that; her son, _his_ son, made his father laugh. Of course Kenji always took it wrong, of course he assumed they were taking pleasure in his misfortunes, of course it often took a story or many apologies to earn back his trust and his smile. But in the moment - that brief, treasured moment - of whatever harmless trouble their active child had gotten himself into, she liked to sit back and listen, as Kenshin's voice broke through the silence or Kenji's tears, chuckling and comforting the boy with a smile on his face.

And slowly she began to realize why it was that Kenshin loved to play with children.

Although he was a child, and children usually didn't lie until they reached a certain age where fibbing was a game to master, Kaoru liked to think that Kenji inherited Kenshin's inability to tell any sort of lies. The world was black and white for him; some things were true, some things were not, and those which were not were, of course, irrelevant.

A frog was green. This was true until Yahiko showed him one with brown spots. This was true until Kenshin called it a toad. This was true until Yahiko said the same thing about his mother.

This was not true, if he knew what was good for him.

The cat was nice. This was true until she hissed at him. This was true until Kenshin picked her up and soothed her. This was true until she escaped the dojo to wander. This was true until she came home again.

This was true until she died.

Kenji lived for the moment, lived by what occurred and not by what had come or was coming. He laughed, he cried, he loved, he hated, he smiled and he sulked. Kaoru found it dizzying, the almost bipolar nature she saw in him.

He was, after all, his father's son.

She never built up the nerve to tell Kenshin this. He would have worried about it, of course; he couldn't bear to have anyone be like him, as frustrating a notion as that was. He never acknowledged that he was, in fact, a wonderful person who just happened to have been an assassin at fourteen.

_ 'People can change... _you_ have changed, Kenshin...'_

_ 'Can't you see that?'_

If Kenshin could keep his secrets, then she could keep hers. She would not tell him. But... if he asked... she wouldn't lie, either.

He deserved to know the truth.

_His _truth...  
  
~*~  
  
I LIIIIIIIIIVE! Mwahaha! Well, after a six-day hiatus (laugh all you want, but that's pretty big for this fic) due to school and a rather limp muse *pokes muse experimentally and almost loses a finger* I'm finally back with a new chapter. I've been busy, busy, busy, so unfortunately my writing time has significantly decreased. However, keep an eye out for a new LSRV chapter in the next few days, because my beta-readers are BACK! ^_^  
  
The idea of Kenshin being a bad liar was, while common knowledge in the fanfiction universe, inspired especially by Calger-san's "Prism", where all the characters are in agreement that Kenshin can't lie worth beans, ^_^ As for Kenshin not laughing very often... I think that was something consistent to his character in the manga. In the anime he laughs a lot, but it's not very common in the manga; at least, not that I saw. You'll have to judge for yourself, but this is my take on it.  
  
The original title to this chapter was "Trouble". I'm so happy it's over... I hated this one. -_-

_Reviewer Responses:_

**animefanrk2k**: Ack! Sorry I missed you last time! Two words are always better than one, ^_~ (well, maybe not _always_, but...)  
  
**Calger459**: That's SO cool, ^_^ Well, the Japanese exchange student we had at my high school last year didn't speak much English, so maybe you just have to learn as you go! Hm, mayhaps I can elaborate on some of these missions eventually, ^_~  
  
**April-san**: Yeah, those are irresistable. For some reason I can so see it happening, ^_^  
  
**Faymon**: Well, I don't really have a specific POV for the fic. Sometimes it's Kaoru, sometimes it's Kenshin; that's the point of writing it in third person: I get to do whatever I like with it, ^_^ Usually if I switch to the omniscient narrative, it will either be obvious as to who is speaking, or I'll make a note at the beginning of the chapter.

More coming soon!


	46. Chapter 46 Samurai

Disclaimer: Not mine! *huff*

~*~

Kendo no Go  
In The Language of Kendo  
A Fanfic in 100 Chapters  
Akai Kitsune  
~*~  
46) Samurai  
~*~

Hitokiri Battousai, strongest and greatest samurai of the Revolution. It was common enough knowledge, passed along by those who knew it to be true or not, and it was something Kaoru was unsure of until she met him on the streets of Tokyo one night.

She didn't realize, until a great length of time after, that it was not true, in part.

He wasn't a samurai at all.

"The son of a farmer," he had said, during one of Kenji's stories. She had thought long upon that.

A peasant, a slave, taken in by a master swordsman who taught him the art of assassination.

_ 'Ten years old, and he knew how to kill a man six different ways. Maybe more.'_

_ 'Times _have_ changed, haven't they...'_

Kaoru wondered, if he wasn't born into the samurai caste, how he came to have his surname. She wasn't sure how to go about asking him - truth be told, she was _never_ sure about how he would react to some things - which made him seem to understand that she wanted to know.

"Katsura-san told me I needed a name," he murmured one night, as he scrawled his messy signature on the bottom of a letter she had written to Misao, giving his greetings to the little ninja as well as Aoshi and the others. She had been surprised by his sudden confession, but curiousity had overcome her impulse to question him further.

"He told me that every respectable swordsman in Kyoto had a full name," he continued eventually, his expression wistful. "And that simply using 'Kenshin' would be too common, too familiar. So... a few days later, when we finally reached Kyoto, he just said it. 'Himura,' he said, and I understood what he meant. I've kept it ever since."

Kaoru watched him, her eyes wondering. He smiled back at her with a small shrug. "I think he was trying to introduce the new standards he was striving for - equality for all, no caste systems or ranks, just men living together peacefully. It's such a... a strange, idealistic view, but back then, it really was something to fight for. Despite whatever may have followed, I will always treasure that day."

She returned the smile, moving closer to sign her own name, and snuggled close to him, kissing his cheek. He rested his chin on the crown of her hair, breathing in the clouded scent of her perfume.

"Do you regret taking the name now," he whispered after a long silence, "Knowing it was created on a whim?"

_ 'Sometimes,' _she thought to herself, looking out towards the dojo, where her name hung on the wall. _'Sometimes when I wonder if my father frowns at the loss of his name in history.'_

_ 'Even though this family will treasure it, always...'_

_ 'Sometimes... but...'_

"It's important to you," she replied, before he began to make the assumption that her silence implied an agreement, "Then it's not a whim, no matter how sudden it was."

His face lay buried in the soft pillow of her hair, but she still caught his muffled thanks, echoing in her ear.

True to his promise, Kenshin traveled to Kyoto every year to visit the grave of his first wife. He liked to go alone - it was a private pain, a secret love, and Kaoru was willing to let it be - and for a few years, it remained so. One year, however, he asked her - shyly, unsure - if she wanted to go with him.

Kaoru loved to sight-see, so it was with great joy that Kenshin offered to show her what he knew as some of the most popular areas which still stood, despite the years that had passed since the Bakumatsu. He took her to ancient temples - _"These often served as Ishin safe houses, and I spent many nights huddled in a corner somewhere to escape the Shinsengumi,"_ - secret roads - _"I took this road to catch up with a group of escaping revolutionaries and stop their assassinations,"_ - familiar buildings - _"The man who once lived in that house nearly killed me one day thinking I was a spy, and yet the very next he saved my life by pretending I was his son for a day,"_ - forgotten inns - _"Okami-san was the proprietress of the Kohagi Inn, which stood right here before it was burned to the ground,"_ - things which she would have passed by without a second thought. He told a great deal of stories as they walked; gentle stories, stories to make her laugh, or smile, or tightly hug his arm as his eyes misted over in memory. He spoke of old comrades, strange meetings, comedic circumstances that served to make the Bakumatsu that much more bearable for an assassin, a recovering widower.

Compared to the things she learned in her travels with him, she was grateful that she had not chosen to follow Misao's volunteered tour of sweet shops and clothing markets. The puzzled, skeptical expression of her friend as she told of where they had gone, was truly priceless.

But so, she thought wryly, giving her husband's hand a gentle squeeze, was the journey itself.  
  
~*~  
  
Whew! I must admit, I was looking forward to this chapter, but when I finally got here... I didn't know how to start, O_o Oh well, now that I'm getting started again, I can't stop! *cracks knuckles* Well, hopefully, anyway.  
  
I have no idea where "Himura" came from, but I like the idea of Katsura giving it to Kenshin. Similarly, I also like the idea of Kaoru taking Kenshin's name. Some people may argue that Kamiya Kenshin sounds better, or that he would be marrying into her family and thus must take her name. However, it must be noted that in the inventory of characters in the Kenshin Kaden artbook, Kenji is listed as "Himura Kenji", not "Kamiya Kenji", and you know what that means, ^_^  
  
The original title of this chapter was "Soldier". Close enough.

_Reviewer Responses:_

**Iram**: No, what's inspiring is reviews like that. Thank you so much.  
  
**Calger459**: Yay, more Prism! That makes me happy. ^_^ Just for that, I'll try to get the next chapter of LSRV posted ASAP. The vignette is posted, by the way. Hm, looking back now, I really can't think of any time in the manga that he laughs... that's a good point... it's odd how they make it so common in the anime; he laughs at the slightest thing. I think the one I found the strangest is the final episode of the Jin'ei arc...  
Sano: Where's the Kurogasa?  
Kenshin *laughing*: Well it's the funniest thing! See, I was going to kill him, but Kaoru told me not to, so the guy killed himself! What a riot, eh?  
Sano: *blink blink*

More coming soon!


	47. Chapter 47 Tofu

Disclaimer: Not mine! *huff*

~*~

Kendo no Go  
In The Language of Kendo  
A Fanfic in 100 Chapters  
Akai Kitsune  
~*~  
47) Tofu  
~*~

Kenshin was a good shopper. He liked to shop; he was happy to shop. Kenshin could find the best deals, the best foods, and did not take his time and sidetrack, if he could help it.

Unfortunately, despite whatever aspirations he might have, Yahiko was _not_ Kenshin.

The Tokyo samurai had always grumbled about chores of any kind, whether it involved practicing, cleaning the dojo, cleaning the house or, heaven forbid, cooking to relieve the workload on Kenshin's back. Kaoru was at a loss as to why he found his life so tormenting. He received free board, free food, free _lessons_, and yet he failed to understand that a little work around the dojo was the least he could do.

She had forgotten what it was like to be ten years old.

So when she summoned him to go on the dreaded mission for tofu, she received, instead of her cheerful rurouni's, "Hai, Kaoru-dono," a scowling, reluctant grunt of the boy she had taken in as a student and prospective little brother. When he was sent on his way, instead of returning as soon as the errand was finished, he wasted time, he purchased what he had to whatever the price, and he often stopped by the Akabeko to "visit"; more likely, to eat and flirt with a certain young waitress.

It wasn't as though she disapproved of the budding romance between Yahiko and Tsubame. For from it: she encouraged it as much as she could, despite merciless teasing. Yahiko deserved it, anyway.

But she hated waiting for a meal - after a long day of training to earn the money he thoughtlessly flouted at the restaurant - for the sake of indulging a child who disrespected her at every opportunity.

Kenshin encouraged her to let it go, most of the time. It was an awkward age for a boy, he said, almost as bad as the early teen years. Never sure what you're too young for, too old for.

He was training with Hiko at the age of ten. Not much room for play, there.

"Not many girls to speak with, either," he added with a mild smile, making her feel a little ashamed at her anger. Where, after all, was the harm?

Despite his words, there was nothing Kenshin could do to curb her occasional resentment of Yahiko's actions. Sometimes she was unforgiving, sometimes he deserved it, but either way, he more often than not received the punishing end of her bokken.

Indignant, fierce, he would retaliate with words.

And the cycle would begin anew.

Later, she would wonder at how easily they lost control. One word, two, and they were at it like rabid dogs. Kenshin would smile, of course, and discretely vanish as they tumbled over each other, vying for a victory to gloat about later. Such was their pride.

"That's the only thing we share," she complained to Kenshin once, after a particularly long fight that sent Yahiko out of the dojo in an uncharacteristic fit of anger.

Kenshin naturally disagreed. "I think you share a lot of things," he answered with a gentle shake of his head. "You just need to think further on it.

"Like what?" she asked skeptically.

He hadn't even hesitated in his response. "Your pride is one example, but what you are proud _of_ is another. You both wish to bring honour to your family name, don't you?" She thought upon this for a moment. "You also want to protect people, no matter what the danger. You're both incredibly reckless, yet at times, very wise. Whatever you do has great purpose. You both," he said finally, after an extensive pause, "Have my utmost respect."

She had smiled at this, wondering just how he always knew exactly what to say and how to say it. She quickly sent him out to find Yahiko while she prepared dinner, thinking as she did so, _'You forgot one last thing, Kenshin... you forgot that the most important thing we share is you.'_  
  
  
~*~  
  
O_O Remember that time a few weeks ago, when I wrote five chapters in one weekend? I went on vacation for the May 2-4 (I believe it's strictly a Canadian holiday, but I'm not sure...), and wrote _ten_ chapters. I couldn't believe it, I was so surprised. Still going... ah, the wonder that is vacation.  
  
But now I have to type them all out, so forgive the little delays between chapters. Maybe two per day, or every other day. Or something. Anyway...  
  
I may expand upon the chat between Yahiko and Kenshin at the end of this one, so look forward to that if the inspiration comes, ^_^  
  
The original title for this chapter was "Cabbage".

_Reviewer Responses:_

**Calger459**: Heh, maybe I should email Go-chan, ^_^ I agree, some scenes were done much more effectively in the anime, and the Saitou battle was definitely one of them. Ooh, a full-fledged WAFF piece... don't get me started. I have enough ongoing fics. Maybe I'll go into greater detail in later chapters. More LSRV? I'm trying... I really am... but you can read the Consummation companion piece, if you want...  
  
**Jason M. Lee**: Well, I understand that in some cases that would happen, but it wouldn't make sense for Kenshin to take Kaoru's name, then give Kenji the name Himura, ^_^ And I already knew what "Himura" means, but thank you for telling me, anyway.

More coming soon!


	48. Chapter 48 Katai

Disclaimer: Not mine! *huff*

~*~

Kendo no Go  
In The Language of Kendo  
A Fanfic in 100 Chapters  
Akai Kitsune  
~*~  
48) Katai  
~*~

Kenshin was the greatest swordsman in Japan. He had spent most of his life dealing with the toughest, coldest brutes imaginable, turning aside the sharp blade of death every time.

Yet how, _how_, Kaoru thought with despair, did he find it so impossible to discipline his own son?

It made her feel terrible at times, how she was the one to scold him, to take away his toys when he misbehaved, to let him know when he overstepped his boundaries. She who faced his pout, his objections, his tears.

Yes, she felt like a downright ogre.

It was when he was around the age of two - the _oni_ years, an old friend of her mother had once told her - that he mimicked Yahiko's nickname for her and sent her into a fury, Kenji into tears. Kenshin calmed her down, reminding her that he was too young to understand what it really meant, and at the same time old enough to want her known reaction. The thought, however, of her son - her _son_ - muttering "busu" under his breath like the bratty, egotistical student of hers was still infuriating.

"Don't be too hard on him," Kenshin whispered, rubbing her shoulder, dueling against her tense posture. She willed herself to relax under his ministrations, knowing that if it was Yahiko before her, she would have struck him already.

She wondered, briefly, how Tomoe would have dealt with Kenshin's temperamental child.

She also recalled that she had been doing that a lot lately.

_ 'He's your son too,' _she reminded herself.

Finally she relented, giving a still-bawling Kenji over to his father's care and going out for a trip to the marketplace, desperately needing a respite from her somewhat troublesome family.

_ "Don't be so hard."_

_ 'Am I too hard on him?'_

_ 'Isn't punishment part of being a parent,' _she wondered, '_Just as reward is? Shouldn't we be teaching him how not to act, even as we show him proper etiquette?'_

_ 'With Yahiko as a brother, and Sano as an uncle,'_ she thought sullenly, _'What sort of manners will he have?'_

She wished Kenshin spent more time teaching the boy things. He was still young, of course, but things taught early were often retained much easier than what was taught later in life. She knew, for she found Tae's lessons - cooking, formal ceremony, _anything_ - were exceedingly difficult to remember.

But Kenshin liked to teach by example, and Kenji _might_ learn, if he ever paid attention when it was important. His sense of priorities were a bit different from hers.

_ 'Maybe I am a little harsh sometimes,'_ she thought guiltily, and, on impulse, purchased some sweets from a little shop in town.

When she returned home, sharing her treats with Kenji - who had, through Kenshin's careful words and gentle encouragements, relaxed and allowed himself to be distracted from her earlier fit - she earned his delighted hug and profuse thanks, mingled with a muffled apology and a promise to never, ever call her "busu" again because it was a bad word and Yahiko-niichan was bad for calling her that. She was kaasan, pretty, wonderful kaasan, and did she forgive him?

She did, and the grateful, tender smile she received from her husband made it all worth it.  
  
~*~  
  
This chapter was meant to be a parallel for "Yasashi". As such, the title's translation is "Hard", which was the original title in the novel.

More coming soon!


	49. Chapter 49 Tanuki

Disclaimer: Not mine! *huff*

~*~

Kendo no Go  
In The Language of Kendo  
A Fanfic in 100 Chapters  
Akai Kitsune  
~*~  
49) Tanuki  
~*~

There was an ancient story, Kaoru remembered, about a fox and a tanuki. The two met on a road and, knowing their skills of transformation, decided to hold a contest in order to determine who was superior.

It was so like them, she mused. Always fighting, always seeking ways to best the other. Always warring for the greatest prize.

Sometimes she felt hurt by Megumi's teasing, however lighthearted it usually was. It was hard to brush aside a vocalized statement of what she thought - knew - to be true.

_ "You're no replacement for Tomoe-san."_

Hard, indeed.

Yahiko had once tried to give her reassurance, however crude it was. He mentioned, after a particularly harsh comment from Megumi, that "tanuki always have bigger balls than anything".

After she had throttled him and sent him through a grueling exercise, she slowly learned to appreciate his odd comfort. She knew, in part, that Kenshin loved her for who she was - the sweaty, energetic tomboy - not who she sometimes wished to be. He knew her limits, often better than _she_ did, and so did not expect more from her than she could - or would - give. Yahiko knew this as well, it seemed, and he never hesitated to remind her.

She was thankful for that, at least.

Kaoru never imagined how much she'd miss Megumi when her friend left for Aizu. She thought she would be glad - no more clever, derogatory remarks, no more loud, obnoxious laughter at her expense, no more sly glances at her precious Ken-san, or flickers of disdain at any childish impulses she sometimes gave into.

But as she thought more on it, she remembered all the older woman had done for her. The elegant fox-lady had served as an example of how a lady could be - beautiful, wise, independent and skilled - and had guided her to become a stronger woman herself. Megumi probably never saw her as a woman - sometimes _Kaoru_ had doubts - but through her strange teachings, Kaoru learned.

And those lessons were appreciated, in her heart of hearts.

She had been close to tears as Megumi turned away from their "family" and climbed into the waiting carriage, but she held them back, aided by the memory of the woman's smile, the way she had turned and not looked back, not once. Not even for Kenshin.

_ "Thank you, Megumi-san."_

_ "I'm not doing it for you."_

Of course it wasn't for her. It had never been for her, had it? Yet still, she was grateful. And, in respect for Megumi's own strength, she refused to go back to the weak, cowardly girl she had once been without Kenshin. Maybe someday Megumi would see her as worthy for Kenshin, that she had not surrendered to someone who was forever hopeless.

Maybe Megumi, too, knew the ancient story; knew that, in the end, the tanuki won.

~*~

Whee, another fun chapter. A bit miserable, though. I apologize for that... I was tired at the time, O_o  
  
The tanuki/fox story does exist, though I have no idea just how old it is or whether or not Kaoru would know it. But it suited the chapter. You can find it here:

http: // www. mdo. net /users/ wabei/ xlation/ quilt/ tanufox. htm  
(copy-paste into the address bar and remove the spaces, ^_^)

Information about both the fox and the tanuki also came from the American publication of Shonen Jump by Viz comics, Issue 3.  
  
The original title of this chapter was "Eagle".

More coming soon!


	50. Chapter 50 Stomach

Disclaimer: Not mine! *huff*

~*~

Kendo no Go  
In The Language of Kendo  
A Fanfic in 100 Chapters  
Akai Kitsune  
~*~  
50) Stomach  
~*~

There were three things Kaoru recalled vividly about her return from Enishi's island: Megumi's fears over Kenshin's wounds, both old and new, the uneasy glances each of her friends continually sent in her direction, and how thin and pale Kenshin had become.

It had been over three weeks since she last saw him, and, as his gi was removed to help Megumi in her work, she noticed the startling changes. He had always been slender - she was proud of that trait in him, how he could be so frightfully strong with so little bulk - but it had never been this bad. His ribs showed clearly beneath the fresh coats of sweat and blood, as if he had sucked in his breath and forgotten to exhale, leaving his chest high, his belly empty and wanting. As it was, his breathing was too ragged to allow such an act.

It was terrifying.

She wondered what he had done to himself, what Enishi could have said or done that would force him to the level of starvation, so deep were his feelings at her kidnapping. She wished she had fought harder against Enishi, delayed longer, tried more to escape, to keep her rurouni from experiencing such pain. She knew, deep down, that there was nothing she could have done; knew, and felt worse because of it.

Afterwards, she had to work hard to help him regain his lost weight. He admitted to her, once, that he had eaten better since the Kamiya dojo became a real home for him than in all his wandering years combined, no matter who was cooking. She'd thought about that for a long time, wondering sadly how often, how long he had been without food, because of his status of unemployment. He had once said humourlessly to Yahiko that, glamourous as it may seem from distance, the job of a wanderer was hardly sought after. Better to be samurai, _dojo_ samurai, even though the class was abolished and swords were banned.

"In your heart, in your soul," he had murmured, "Once you become a true swordsman, you will remain that was until death."

Kaoru shivered at the words, thinking and asking silently if Kenshin knew how close his advice was to the dying words of Jin'ei.

_ "A hitokiri is only that until death..."_

She noticed - though Yahiko did not, in his excitement at receiving such rare, offered advice - that Kenshin did not use term "samurai" when referring to himself. She had never visualized Kenshin to be anything _but_ samurai; he was so strong, to regal and fierce at times, his actions alone deserved the title.

But he was not a born samurai, was simply given a name, a daisho, and sent to a samurai's work. She often wondered if he had ever truly been a child.

Peasant, slave, samurai. But a child?

Which led her to the thought that he had always been so small, so scrawny, so _thin_. It was a heartbreaking thought.

After their marriage, she marveled at how flat and hard his stomach was, the well-toned flesh and muscle like carved iron in the dancing lamplight. She liked to lay her head on his chest, running her hand across his skin, until his hand came up to intertwine his fingers through hers, amused, but sensitive to her tickling motion. He was also, she recalled, incredibly shy of his scars, however unvoiced those feelings were.

Well, she didn't care about them as much as he thought she might - enough, perhaps, to recognize that they were part of him and could never be removed - but he was so giving of everything else, so she couldn't begrudge him this one thing.

Kaoru _hated_ being fat. It made her uncomfortable, overly sensitive, and sometimes, a bit violent. As such, she was not a very good pregnant lady at times. She had to admit that her pregnancy was not as bad as many of the town ladies had boasted. She was ill, but not constantly; stiff, but not unbearably so; tired, but relieved of any and all workload thanks to her husband's care and generous nature. Yet the weight of a child was much harder to bear than she had previously anticipated.

_ 'With the two of us being so small, usually,'_ she thought crossly, gazing at her ever-increasing berth, _'How in the world is this one so big?'_

During her pregnancy, she was terribly envious of Kenshin's unchanging waist, his cheerful, energetic step as he moved around the dojo, in comparison to her slow, impaired waddle. But he was the man, the father - what changes should be expected of _him_? Certainly not what she was gaining.

Gradually she began to realize that Kenshin's increased liveliness and overjoyed attitude was not simply to spite her own foul mood - a thought she blamed on her unbalanced hormones - but, instead, to show the world how immensely happy he was at the sight - indeed, the very thought - that she was with child, _his_ child, and he was doing what he could to make that fact as comfortable for her as possible.

And he, while she could not say the same for a certain skinny, teenaged pupil of hers, had never once called her fat. Even in the final days before her son's birth, he smiled sincerely and called her beautiful, so honestly that she truly, deeply believed him.

Even when her stomach stuck out a foot in front of her.

Beautiful.  
  
~*~  
  
The chapter title was left unchanged.

WAI! Halfway there, can you believe it?! I almost can't, ^_^ But I'm working hard and doing my best, so I'll keep at it.

I'd like to thank everyone who has supported me thus far. All you reviewers have made this fic worthwhile. Without your help I'd probably have stopped a long time ago. A special thank you definitely goes to Calger-san, who has taken the time to faithfully review nearly every chapter. You're awesome, ^_^

I'd also like to make a (hesitant) announcement. A few of you out there asked if I'd write further than 100 chapters. Because it's a parody, I figured it was only a remote possibility unless I found a book that was written in a similar way.

Will you believe I found one? You find the strangest things in old shops at the cottage, ^_^ And this is a bit different - a full 141 chapters, shorter, but hopefully just as inspirational as the original. It's a slim possibility, since I have no idea if I'll even get that far with _Kendo_, and I haven't read the book yet. But you never know, and it's something to think about, ^_~  


_Reviewer Responses:_

**Calger459**: I know _I _don't always say the right thing, O_o But hey, what can you do, right... oh, and you certainly are taking your sweet time in reading the Consummation sequel, considering how anxious you were to see it, ^_~

**Wingstar**: I will indeed. Thanks for the encouragement.

**MoonPhoenix**: That's true, but that would be relying purely on the kanji. When the kanji are put together, most often it's much nicer to add the "in-betweens" so to speak, because just flat out saying the word... just sounds wrong, O_o And you have to consider that Himura _is_ his last name, it just happens to come first because of Japanese culture...

More coming soon!


	51. Chapter 51 Garden

Disclaimer: Not mine! *huff*

~*~

Kendo no Go  
In The Language of Kendo  
A Fanfic in 100 Chapters  
Akai Kitsune  
~*~  
51) Garden  
~*~

Kenshin was unusually gifted with plants, as well as swords. He never offered where he gained the skills he used to cultivate the Kamiya dojo's little vegetable garden, and Kaoru never really thought it was important enough to ask. Their food thrived, and it pleased him greatly, so she didn't question him.

There were flowers in the garden, too, growing wildly from the time of her mother's death to Kenshin's arrival, when he had immediately taken it upon himself to make the place beautiful again. Sanosuke had once commented at how prissy that sounded. kenshin merely responded, his voice mild, with the question of how the street fighter's longhouse smelled. That had shut him up.

The flowers blossomed handsomely under Kenshin's care, earning Kaoru's respect once again. He had smiled and waved aside her praise, crediting it to luck and a practiced hand. She wondered how and where a swordsman of his caliber would learn to work with plants.

Eventually she learned that he had been, in his childhood and even briefly in his days as a hitokiri, a farmer. He explained vaguely of his miniscule role in aiding his father in the fields as much as he could, though at eight years old, there was little he could do. He was quick to learn, he admitted, and he held onto any skills he gained. It had been years since he had a real garden to care for, and he was forced to concede that he was grateful for the chance to renew and apply his knowledge, especially if it was to help her. She flushed at the idea; too kind, always too kind.

When Kenji was old enough, curiousity led him to Kenshin's side in the garden, watching his father as he hunched over the plants, digging, watering, testing for maturity or defects, his eyes scrutinizing each blooming flower, each fattening vegetable.

Kenji always wanted to help, and though he was too young, and clumsy, and usually did more damage than aid, Kenshin had not the heart or the desire to refuse him. She liked to watch them as they fumbled in the dirt together, Kenji giggling and playful, Kenshin patient and gentle, his voice guiding them through the year's plantation, carefully molding the garden, even as he molded their family closer, roots growing deeper into the ground, intertwining like vines, or fingers, curving around the hand of another. Smalls hands, she remembered. Soft hands.

Like a child.

~*~

The original title of this chapter was "Stem".

_Reviewer Responses_:

**Espi**: There's that exploding ego again... *grabs a vice and starts squishing her head* Thank you, ^_^  
  
**Amie**: Well, since they're so short, it's easy to update, ^_^ I'll try to keep up the pace as long as I can.  
  
**marstanuki**: I don't even know how I found that story... I just remember it existed and I wanted to find it for this fic, ^_^;;

More coming soon!


	52. Chapter 52 Scar

Disclaimer: Not mine! *huff*

~*~

Kendo no Go  
In The Language of Kendo  
A Fanfic in 100 Chapters  
Akai Kitsune  
~*~  
52) Scar  
~*~

Kaoru remembered how she had wondered at the origin of Hitokiri Battousai's legendary scars. She had readily admitted that she didn't care about people's pasts - and it was the truth, since she didn't _need_ to know - but the curiousity, the intrigue was still there. She ever asked Kenshin, and she suspected that it was a secret for a very good reason. Sometimes she wished he trusted her enough to tell her.

But it wasn't about trust, really. They were like an old blanket to a child; protective, a secret, sentimental and unspoken, to hold as his own from the rest of the world. No one seemed to know where the scars had come from and it made him seem that much more mysterious, that much more deadly.

She knew that the cross-shaped scar marring his left cheek was not the only mark he bore; it was simply the one he was known for. On the rare occasions she saw him in any state of undress - whether his gi was removed for the doctor, or that one, troublesome incident in the hot springs - she couldn't help but notice the broken discolourations scattered across his body, her eyes lingering on the thin, faded lines when she was certain he wasn't watching her. The curiousity had increased, seeing each one: the three marks across his back - not matched by the front, thanks to Aoshi's blade - the large, jagged circles in each shoulder, and, beneath the right, a smaller dot of white on pale pink flesh. There were many others - far too many to list, to count, she thought with great pain - but none darker and more prominent than the two, crisscrossing signs against his face.

Sanosuke's words, spoken to him first by Megumi, weighed heavily in her heart.

_ "... if someone attaches strong feelings to a sword wound, as long as he carries those feelings, the scar will not fade..."_

When Kenshin finally revealed to his small, closely-knit circle of friends the origin of these scars, Kaoru understood why he had waited until it was absolutely necessary. Such a story - showing, in such great and gory detail, his job as a hitokiri to be much darker and difficult than they had ever imagined - must have been painful to tell, even to relive, and he must have been worried about how their opinions of him would change. He always thought the worst of them - or rather, the worst of himself.

Kaoru wasn't sure which idea she enjoyed less. Both were so intolerable, so very _wrong_.

He was learning, though. Slowly, bit by bit, with the aid of those he trusted, relied upon, _loved_, he was learning.  
  
~*~  
  
Kudos to all those who recognized where each scar came from, ^_^  
  
The original title of this chapter was "Lamp".

_Reviewer Responses:_

**Iram**: That's the way the parody goes, ^_~ Plus its a lot of fun... and it gives me something to do, O_o  
  
**Crazy Girl Person**: For someone who "sucks at writing reviews", you sure write a lot, ^_~  
  
**Red Ninja:** It seems to go so quickly... I'm amazed, really.

More coming soon!


	53. Chapter 53 Illusions

Disclaimer: Not mine! *huff*

~*~

Kendo no Go  
In The Language of Kendo  
A Fanfic in 100 Chapters  
Akai Kitsune  
~*~  
53) Illusions  
~*~

Kaoru did not dream. Or, to be exact, she had difficulty remembering her dreams. Often she would awaken suddenly, a steady stream of emotion flaring in her mind - fear, anger, joy - her heart pounding in her chest for reasons she couldn't explain. It was frustrating, really, how she would be startled out of sleep for nothing, waking Kenshin at the same time and, at his soft query at what was wrong, having to answer that she honestly didn't know.

Sometimes she complained to Kenshin about her puzzling troubles, agonizing over what _might_ have been frightening, what _might_ have been infuriating, what _might_ have brought her joy. She would vent over the extensive list of might-have-beens, angry and not really knowing why, just knowing that it was important in some silly, ultimately inconsequential way. If that made any sense.

Later, she felt terribly guilty at her inconsiderate words to Kenshin. He would listen, patient, silent, and polite, as she pondered and ranted, ignoring her tired fury, knowing all the while that the dream was nothing, would be nothing if it hadn't interrupted her sleep.

But, through her angry pacing, she never stopped to think of how _he_ might feel. How he might wish with all his heart that their positions could be reversed, that she could dream of her fear, her anger, her joy, and he could be left with the unknowing bliss of not dreaming, not seeing the dark and bloody existence that was his inner memory, or whatever it was that drove him to the nightmarish state she sometimes woke to find him in, shivering, wracked with chills or tears, or silent, so silent that it made her worry if he would ever speak, ever smile, again.

And yet the very next night he was listening, just as silent, but smiling, shaking his head for no reason, or no reason he would give to her, as she lamented the loss of a dream, even though dreams were meant to be lost, meant to be forgotten. He told her this, and she resisted the urge to ask him why he still has the same dreams, the same memories, that will never go away.

Guilty, again.

~*~

This is a sympathy chapter, from one non-dreamer to another. -_-;; Yes, it's frustrating, yes it's annoying, and no, I don't envy dreamers very often. It's much easier to daydream. No nightmares this way, heh.  
  
The original title of this chapter was "Dream".

More coming soon!


	54. Chapter 54 Kiiro

Disclaimer: Not mine! *huff*

AN: Written for Kaoru in omniscient narrative.

~*~

Kendo no Go  
In The Language of Kendo  
A Fanfic in 100 Chapters  
Akai Kitsune  
~*~  
54) Kiiro  
~*~

The colour of your favourite kimono, lined with orange and decorated gaily with sakura petals. The kimono of a young, unmarried woman, informal, comfortable, having no reason at all to dress up, except to please yourself. The kimono that, gradually, spends more and more time in the closet, as you seek new ways to gain the attention and smiling appraisal of your favourite tenant - too polite to call a freeloader, too familiar to call a guest, too distant to call anything else - although you receive that no matter what you wear, even when you dart around in well-worn kendo gear.

The colour of your fear, your cowardice, when that same tenant left you to face death in Kyoto, the age-old capital to which he was summoned, even though his duty was done, even though his summoner was dead, assassinated.

Or maybe _because_ of that.

Your fear, momentarily dissolved - by the bold, mocking statements of the elegant lady you secretly admired, and the blunt, yet encouraging rewards of your one and only student - returning with a vengeance as you face him once again, wondering what he will say, what he will do, if he is angry.

He is, but only half, and he is relived as well, so maybe it was all right, maybe you don't need to hold on to such fear.

The colour of his eyes - deep and dark, glittering with anger and the promise of pain, defeat, and yes, through it pains you to admit, death - as he faces his oldest enemy. The colour of fear, though it is your fear, not his, and there is nothing you can do to hold him back, to save him, and that fear is the deepest of all fears, the one that drives you to despair so easily.

The colour of the eyes of your lover, jaded and heavy-lidded, as his gaze pierces your own, and you no longer feel the trepidation that once caught your heart, drove the air from your lungs. Now, the only thing that leaves you breathless is the way he loves you, gently, warmly, without the danger or fury he shows to his enemies, and you know that it is only you who sees this side of him; you alone, and there is pride in this knowledge.

The colour of your favourite kimono which is finally relinquished, packed away with the rest of the clothes of your youth, after your marriage, exchanged for the for the modest, less decorative and more traditional wear of a wife. There is nostalgia and sadness as the clothes disappear with a flurry of dust and mothballs, but also hope: hope that your marriage will be as wonderful as you imagine it to be; hope that someday you will have a daughter to wear the same kimono, and you will tell her proudly that even such a simple outfit is enough to win over a man like her father.

The colour of fear, faded, almost gone, in the light of such hope.  
  
~*~  
  
Another omniscient narrative chapter. These are kind of fun. Forgive me if I messed up the pronouns again, O_o Sometimes I get mixed up when I'm tired. Thanks to Calger-san for catching it last time, ^_^  
  
The original title of this chapter was "Yellow", which is the translation of Kiiro. I like that word... kiiiiiiiro...  


_Reviewer Responses:_

**Calger459**: I hate typos, -_-;; thanks though, I'll look for them. I might even find them, too... I've been slacking off in my editing. Bad, bad Akai!

More coming soon!


	55. Chapter 55 Cooking

Disclaimer: Not mine! *huff*

~*~

Kendo no Go  
In The Language of Kendo  
A Fanfic in 100 Chapters  
Akai Kitsune  
~*~  
55) Cooking

~*~

Kaoru loved cooking. Every part of the process; the way the fish sizzled on the griddle, oiled and seasoned, the way the rice bubbled as it was boiled, the way the tofu bobbed and floated like tiny white islands in the soup. She loved it with ever fiber of her heart.

Unfortunately, cooking did not love her.

She wasn't sure why, but nothing seemed to go exactly right when she cooked. The food was edible, there was no question about that, but there was always something not quite _right_, whether it was the taste, consistency, or feel of the dish. It was a consistent frustration, but she refused to be deterred. Surrender was an old enemy, one she never gave into easily, if at all.

She envied Kenshin's culinary skills, more than any other ability he possessed. She had long been aware of her limitations as a swordsman, and she never resented his gifts of careful control, practiced restraint, and flawless mannerisms. But the ability to properly run a kitchen should have long been hers, as a woman, but more importantly as a woman who had been cooking alone for nearly ten years - as long as he had, she realized.

Despite her quiet jealousy, she loved to watch him cook. The way he arranged everything perfectly, timed with care, prepared with ease, spiced and seasoned till the taste was just right. It was a practiced ritual for him, so simple, yet a challenge every time. Kaoru found it enduring and infuriating at the same time.

She knew he was under appreciated. Rarely did he receive a thank you for his troubles, although it was his unspoken job to cook and clean in payment for his stay, and he worked without complaint or expectation of reward, unlike the other two who frequented her property. Often they were too busy fighting over their portions to be truly grateful for the hardworking rurouni who did his best to please them. She felt badly for it, at times, but it never seemed to matter to him. Perhaps their mealtime duels was praise enough; never, she added, in the slightest of sulks, had they fought over a meal she had cooked.

She couldn't bring herself to resent him for it though, even if she was wanted to. Instead, she remained thankful, and allowed him to cook day after day, watching, and learning at the same time, by his silent example.

~*~

Another sympathy chapter. I can cook riceballs and fudge brownies. That's the extent of my culinary skills. I'm so jealous, ;_;  
  
The original title for this chapter was "Bread".

More coming soon!


	56. Chapter 56 Tenchuu

Disclaimer: Not mine! *huff*

~*~

Kendo no Go  
In The Language of Kendo  
A Fanfic in 100 Chapters  
Akai Kitsune  
~*~  
56) Tenchuu  
~*~

Heaven's Justice, the proclamation of death, the mark of the Ishin Shishi shadow assassin. A method of reasoning, _justifying_ in a way, the murder of an enemy.

A statement of war, small and fierce; an encouragement towards surrender.

Justice. What is justice?

Kenshin liked to leave for his jobs during the day, when Kenji was awake, so he could promise to be home as soon as possible. The boy's responding sulk - or tears, at times - was both painful and encouraging for him; painful to see his son's unhappiness, yet he was sent on his way with the hope and knowledge that his son still loved him, still cared when he left.

Such things were important.

It often worried him, the lost time all these jobs were costing him.

Time is money.

Time can't be bought.

Neither can love, he mused, telling himself for the millionth time - _time_ - that he had to stop being so agreeable with the police chief. He was tired of leaving, tired of goodbyes, tired of the disappointment in the eyes of his family. He was tired of false smiles and hidden tears. His, or his wife's.

He no longer tried to convince himself that his actions were justified, that his absence and aid to the government was somehow beneficial to the wife and child who waited for him.

They were so faithful, so patient. But he was so _tired_.

He liked to leave during the day, but more importantly, he liked to return at night, so he could enter in practiced silence and join her in bed, reaching out and holding her, praying she would wake up - even as he sought to avoid disturbing her - though she would always wake up and return the hug, a tired smile on her face, a whispered welcome on her lips. He liked to wake up in the morning to Kenji's surprised, delighted shriek, a light and enthusiastic body pouncing on his own, a welcome in the language of a child.

He liked to come home this way, but above all, he loved to come home.  
  
~*~  
  
Kinda happy and sad at the same time... I was in a weird mood, O_o I think I lost focus in there somewhere... but following outlines isn't exactly the main plan for this fic, so... ^_^;;  
  
Is it just me, or are the chapters getting shorter? Weird... oh well...  
  
The original title for this chapter was "Justice".  


More coming soon!


	57. Chapter 57 Son

Disclaimer: Not mine! *huff*

~*~

Kendo no Go  
In The Language of Kendo  
A Fanfic in 100 Chapters  
Akai Kitsune  
~*~  
57) Son

~*~

**boy** _**n.**_ shonen. **1.** a male child to the age of physical maturity; youth; lad. **2.** a man regarded as common, lowly, immature, or callow. **3. **a young man, fellow; a familiar form of address. **4.** a male servant; an underling; a patronizing term. ** 5.** a messenger; a helper. **6.** a son.  
  
  
Kaoru had always wanted a girl, which made the existence of her son a little harder to deal with, at first. She hadn't expected a boy, and was entirely unprepared to raise him. Thankfully, she had quite some time - and a lot of people to give her aid - before she had to consider doing anything more than feeding and dressing the child.

Kenshin was thrilled to have a child at all, a reaction which she _had_ expected. They had cared for Yahiko for years already, and his ability to guide and mold the boy into a young man on the path to honourable adulthood had shone through on many occasions. She was a little envious, how he seemed so prepared, so _ready_ to be a father, while she frequently doubted her parenting skills, even as she held her son in her arms.

When she asked him how he could be so calm and relaxed over the prospect of raising a child, he laughed. It had surprised her - it seemed like a perfectly good question, and she truly did want to know - but it was so rare that he laughed, her question instead transformed into why, exactly, he was laughing.

He smiled back at her, his eyes still shining with lingering amusement, and took the slumbering Kenji from her arms, cuddling him close.

"This child," he murmured, gazing at the baby with a peculiar expression on his face, "Terrifies me more than any swordsman, any foe that stood before me in the past."

He never ceased to surprise her, it seemed.

Kenshin never expanded upon his strange, enigmatic statement, but his actions spoke far louder. His eyes were soft, his hands gentle, his voice quiet, whenever Kenji was near. The rurouni had always been polite, but the presence of a child - _his_ child - tempered his demeanor beyond all her expectations. It was as if he was afraid of waking the boy, of ruining a dream, of shattering the image of a perfect family with the chaos of real life.

"He sleeps too much," Kaoru complained one day, watching the baby as he blissfully slumbered in his bed. He was only a few days old.

Kenshin smiled and shook his head. "Iie. It's normal, isn't it?"

"Well, that's what Gensai-sensei says, but..."

"He's so peaceful when he's sleeping," Kenshin continued, reassuring her with his relaxed tone. "It's soothing to watch him. Just let him sleep..."

She bit her lip, unsure, but knowing he was right, the doctor was right, and she was worrying for nothing.

"Soon," he whispered, brushing his finger across the newborn's cheek, "He'll wake up, and we'll be wishing we could go back to this."

He was right, of course. Kenji awoke like a storm, growing and never ceasing to do so. He tore through the house, the town, their lives, bringing laughter and tears wherever he went.

And he went wherever he dared to go.

In his heart, Kaoru could sense that he was a wanderer too, in part. He sought his answers, he watched for his dreams, he chased the shadows of the lives around him, past or present. He had a brilliant drive for knowledge that, truthfully, she hadn't expected from _her_ son - as one who enjoyed knowing peace and _only_ that, who looked for the truth when it was needed, and accepted the excuses of others when it was for her own protection.

But he was Kenshin's son, and Kenshin had always known too much, seen too much, kept too much to himself. Kenshin was his own master, however innocent and oblivious he depicted himself to be. Kenji wished for nothing more than the strength and right to lead his own life, to find his own path.

And, though she took great pride in the determined vision of his own future, Kaoru wished, just as Kenshin told her, that they could return to how it had once been, when life was peaceful, when Kenji was home, sleeping, with his father's finger brushing against his skin as he slept on, knowing the feel of parental love and nothing more.

~*~

This is sort of reminiscent of Seisouhen, although it's following the pattern of Watsuki-sensei's guideline of who Kenji was (or would be, rather). He states that Kenji becomes quite the genius, even though he's pretty egotistical. I figured that, as a true brainiac, he's want to know anything and everything, ^_^ So I wrote him that way.  
  
The original title of this chapter was "Boy". As many of you probably guessed, it is meant to be a parallel to "Daughter".  
  
I haven't mentioned this before, but the definitions in this story come more-or-less directly from the source novel, which I don't have on hand at the moment... anyway, the English definitions are from there, so they're not mine in any way. Just thought I'd mention it now...

More coming soon!


	58. Chapter 58 Hikari

Disclaimer: Not mine! *huff*

~*~

Kendo no Go  
In The Language of Kendo  
A Fanfic in 100 Chapters  
Akai Kitsune  
~*~  
58) Hikari  
~*~

"Beautiful. He's beautiful..."

Kenshin was an immediate admirer of Kenji after his birth, reveling in all the baby did. Kaoru herself couldn't help but feel proud of their accomplishment. A new life, a new joy, a family, they had created together.

Beautiful.

He was, she knew, a beautiful child. With bright eyes, deeper than the night sky - a colour which truly grew on her over time - and hair the shade of embers and rust, he was the admiration of the town. A strange child, certainly, but a popular newcomer to the city of Tokyo. Kaoru found it amusing how such a lesser known dojo - once made famous by the rumours of an assassin abiding there - could be the talk of the neighbourhood by a simple birth. She was only unhappy that it didn't bring her students.

Not that she was in any condition to teach, anyway, but that wasn't the point.

She loved to watch them together, Kenshin and her son, whatever they did. She smiled as Kenshin did the laundry, one eye on the tiny body toddling around at his feet, calling his "to-to" and constantly requesting attention. She laughed as they worked in the garden, Kenji stumbling over roots and wailing over a scratch, Kenshin hugging him and admiring the impressive "battle scar", even as scars that could have taken his life hid innocently beneath his tunic, away from the child's gaze.

She watched them, not knowing that he watched her, not knowing that he loved to watch her with Kenji just as much.

The child brought a light to their world that Kaoru had never known, a love that was deeper and more fierce than anything they had felt before. It fascinated her, how much she knew she was willing to do for this tiny bundle she had brought into the world.

She knew that if anything were to happen to him, if she were to lose him, she would die, just _die_.

And Kenshin? Only the kami knew what he would do, and she couldn't bear to guess. Her own supposed death had wounded him enough. Any harm to Kenji -

She couldn't bear it.

He was their light, their gift from... it must have been the gods, really, they were so blessed.

"I won't let any of my shadows touch him," Kenshin told her, his voice gentle and intense, fearful and undaunted at the same time.

She wondered what shadows he referred to; those who sought him, or darkness of his own making.

"There are two conditions most favourable to a manslayer. One was to be among the shadows of night, and the other was to be among the crowds of people."

Those words often echoed in Kaoru's heart. Spoken first by Kenshin, and reflected upon by Sanosuke, after the battles of Kyoto were over and everyone was on the road to recovery - Kenshin especially, who had worried them all the most - they seemed to mimic and answer her curiousity of what the Bakumatsu was like. Shadows, Kenshin had said. Shadows of war, shadows of the demons of mankind, shadows of past lives and future expectations.

Shadows of the ghosts which haunted every step of one's wish for happiness.

But shadows could not exist without light, she remembered, taking hope in the thought, just as light can chase the shadows to the far-reaching corners of existence.

Like a candle: strong, even as it flickered in the wind.  
  
~*~  
  
Wow, um... scattered chapter, I know. Sorry... I only had a very basic idea of what I wanted to say in this one, and even then I was really baffled. This chapter basically wrote itself.  
  
"Hikari" translates into "light", which is the original chapter's title.

_Reviewer Responses_:

**Suns Golden Ray**: Adventure, huh... that's a nice way of saying it, actually, ^_^  
  
**Iram**: Well, perhaps I didn't quite phrase it right... this fic will NOT end like Seisouhen did. Aspects of Seisouhen will appear throughout the chapters (they already have, actually) but only mildly, so the people who either don't like Seisouhen or haven't seen it can still read and appreciate it, ^_^ The information on Kenji's future characterization came from Serizawa Kamo's translation archive, in the section for Watsuki's notes on each character.

More coming soon!


	59. Chapter 59 Kenko

Disclaimer: Not mine! *huff*

~*~

Kendo no Go  
In The Language of Kendo  
A Fanfic in 100 Chapters  
Akai Kitsune  
~*~  
59) Kenko  
~*~

"This must have to do with my condition, doesn't it?"

Kaoru could remember the fear and trepidation she felt at Kenshin's words, spoken so casually, so calmly to the young doctor who sat before him. Whatever it was Megumi had to tell him, he already knew - or at least, suspected. His health had never been a problem in the past; he had never been ill, really, and his wounds were usually quick to recover. It was uncanny how he was able to overcome both pain and weakness to accomplish what he wished, ignoring doctor's instructions or the concerned requests of his friends. What Kenshin set his mind to do, it usually was done before anyone could stop him or slow him down. That was just part of who he was.

The thought of him being unhealthy frightened her terribly.

"No matter how great your talent, the more you use Hiten Mitsurugi, the more damage your body will take."

It was the swordsmanship, the style which had saved him so many times throughout his life, that was killing him, in the end.

"You've seen the slight damage already..."

How far could he go before the damage went too far, before it was too much?

"What will happen to me?"

_ 'What will happen to you, Kenshin?'_

After Megumi's announcement, Kaoru became even more determined to keep Yahiko from practicing - indeed, even considering - his borrowed Mitsurugi techniques. She discouraged the use of his so-called "Learned By Watching Ryuu Tsui Sen", afraid of what sort of damage he, as a child with less experience than Kenshin, could do to his body. Of course he objected, since it was _his_ technique, one he had fought hard to figure out without Kenshin's teaching, and the attack had saved his life in the battle against the Soaring Henya.

This was true, but what was the worth of a single move if it decreased your chances of continuing your practice at every use?

When she argued this point with Kenshin, he merely smiled, stating that Yahiko was growing into an adult who could make his own choices in life, no longer lead so strongly by their opinions.

"Besides," he added with a small shrug, "His knowledge of the technique is hardly enough to put him in danger. You shouldn't worry so much."

But how could she not worry about her only student, when the one she loved was already at risk?

Kenshin's condition, honestly, was not as bad as she assumed. He did not grow frail and sickly as time passed; he did not become any more susceptible to illnesses than before. He slowed in his practice of swordsmanship - at least his own technique, for she was certain he continued the basic exercises to keep himself fit - and was able to continue through the daily routines of chores he had followed since his arrival in her home.

Her nervousness gradually decreased, taking comfort in the fact that he felt no fear over his health. He seemed to continue on as if Megumi hadn't said a word about it, a smile on his face, just as cheerful and calm as ever. It was uncanny how he was able to brush aside anything concerning his own life, when harm or risk to others sent him into a flurry of deep, silent brooding.

He always told her not to worry, and she knew that she worried too much already. She worried about her family, she worried about those missing from their little group, she worried about the friends around her. She worried about her school, their money situation, the _weather_.

"Koishii, what's wrong?"

_Everything_.

And, in truth, it really wasn't. The life she had led since Kenshin entered it - bringing with him a storm of adventure she never imagined she'd be part of - was enough to shock anyone with only a single experience, let alone many. But it had not been so terrible; she knew she had grown more in six months than in several years before his arrival. It had brought her to new levels of fear, courage, and, most importantly, love.

A great deal of love.

She smiled at the memories, deeply grateful for the rurouni's appearance, grateful that she had met him on the street that day. Despite all that had happened between them - grief, fright, danger and farewells - the hole his very existence had filled in her heart far outshone anything she might regret. He brought meaning to her life.

His love, alone, was enough.

~*~

This chapter was going to be longer, but I sort of lost track of what I was doing, and reached the end without really knowing it was over until I got there, O_o The rest of it will probably appear in a later chapter.  
  
Quotes came from Maigo-chan's Ruroken translations.  
  
The original title of this chapter was "Health", which is the translation of kenko.

More coming soon!


	60. Chapter 60 Diary

Disclaimer: Not mine! *huff*

~*~

Kendo no Go  
In The Language of Kendo  
A Fanfic in 100 Chapters  
Akai Kitsune  
~*~  
60) Diary  
~*~

Sometimes Kaoru felt frustrated by the missed opportunity to read Tomoe's diary, the missing link between Kenshin's past and present. She felt guilty for thinking so - how many times had she told him not to think so much of the past? - but the feeling remained.

She wanted to know what he was like during his assassin days, wanted to know truth from rumour, fact from fiction. She could learn plenty of things about Hitokiri Battousai if she asked around, but it was rare that anything was true. The only person who knew was the one she couldn't ask - the one who wouldn't answer with anything more than a sad smile.

And it really wasn't fair to ask him, no matter how curious she became. The question would only bring him further grief, something she would never wish on anyone, least of all him. He had enough to worry about, enough to think upon, even when she told him not to.

Or _especially_ then.

Kaoru tried to keep a diary once, writing down her own thoughts and feelings, but she had been unable to consistently write in it, forgetting about its existence, or simply having nothing to say.

A thought came to her after she learned of Tomoe's diary, horrifying in its cruelty: she could not imagine what it would be like to lose a loved one, only to discover - through an innocent flip of a page - that they were plotting your destruction, had in fact died in the process. It was a terrible thing to imagine.

Truthfully she was also afraid of the other members of her family somehow sneaking it off to read it - perhaps not Kenshin, who was too much of a gentleman and had already learned enough from diaries in his lifetime - learning all her secret thoughts. It was for this reason that she didn't record such things, but instead kept them in her heart, close and remembered.

Some things she didn't have to write down to remember.

Kenshin was cleaning the storage building one day when he stumbled upon several old, untouched boxes that had remained buried for who knows how long. He had been - _politely_ - kicked out of the house by a collection of half-crazed, squealing women, celebrating the recent birth of his and Kaoru's firstborn son. A stampeding group of baby-admiring, gift-bearing ladies were hardly good company for a man, let alone one as antisocial as himself. The dusty shed called him even as he was banished from the family home, and he was all too happy to oblige to its uncleaned demands.

In the hidden boxes, he found several of the elder Kamiya's possessions: a beautiful white hanten, slightly golden with age, an old ink brush, fine-tipped but rough with use, a small, rusted knife. Things which seemed to have no meaning, yet were unmistakably part of their history.

The most interesting among his finds was a journal, its covers jagged and torn, but still in fair condition, all the pages intact. At first he assumed it belonged to Kaoru's mother, but when he opened it he discovered that the entries were, in fact, written by Kamiya Koshijirou himself.

It surprised him, but it wasn't terribly unusual for a man to keep track of certain occurrences of his home. Flipping through, driven by the curiousity of what Kaoru's home life had been like, Kenshin learned of the financial situation of the dojo during the war, the development of the new government, the origins of the Kamiya home, and Koshijirou's job within the growing metropolis of early Edo.

He learned, to his dismay, that Kaoru's parents had nearly had a child before her, a baby that was lost at four months.  


_ December 17, 1859  
  
Kioku miscarried two weeks ago. It was a shock to both of us, and she is still recovering, both physically and mentally. We have been trying for years to have a child, and when she finally conceived, it seemed too good to be real. And now, we see how true that was._

_Every family seeks to have an heir, a son to pass down the family name. I am beginning to wonder if we shall ever have one.  
~ K.K._

  
Kenshin thought for a long time upon this new found knowledge. He wondered if Kaoru knew, if the miscarried child had been the son they were seeking. He continued reading, skimming through many unrelated entries, hope and dread in his heart.

Finally, he found the date he sought.  


_ June 5, 1862  
  
I cannot believe it. Truly, it's a miracle. Kioku didn't lose the baby; she gave birth several days ago, and Kamiya Kaoru was brought into the world by Doctor Gensai's trusted hands. I was almost afraid to hold her: she was so small and beautiful... how unbelievable her birth was for us. Kioku cried. Truthfully, I myself might have cried._

_There was no room for disappointment, after all these years of waiting, praying for a son. Kaoru is a wonderful child, and her grip is strong. I have high hopes for her. She will be a great woman, a true lady. Kioku will raise her well._

_Someday, we will have a son to inherit the school's teachings. The gods have blessed us, and perhaps we will receive another such gift. If, for some reason, we are unable to have another child, then I'm certain that our daughter will by far prove her worth as an heir. She is special, our Kaoru-chan.  
~ K.K._  


Kenshin closed the journal at that point, a pleased smile on his face. Special... it could not have been said in a better way.

_ ' "Our Kaoru-chan" ?'_

_ 'You'll forgive me, Kamiya-san... if I say...'_

_ 'My Kaoru-chan.'_

He carefully placed the dusty old book back in its box, sliding the wooden crate in a new position - at the back of the shed, in front of the collection of used dojo uniforms. It was a treasure, hidden and secret, and he vowed never to ruin it for her.

It would remain in the shed, awaiting her discovery, were she ever to look for it. She would be surprised, and he loved it when she wore that expression of pure delight on her face. Like a child, she was.

_'My Kaoru-chan.'_

He glanced through the barred windows, and saw that the sun was setting. Outside, he could hear the sounds of the departing women, and he knew his brief exile was over.

Kaoru greeted him at the door of the house, a quietly dozing Kenji in her arms. She smiled wearily at him, taking his hand and squeezing gently.

"Find anything interesting?" she teased, leaning her forehead against his neck.

He wrapped his arm around her shoulders, brushing a finger against the baby's cheek. Kenji stirred, eyes flickering for a moment before growing still once again.

"No," he answered easily, blowing her a soft kiss. "Not really."

~*~  
  
This one took a little longer than I thought it would... -_- I wasn't exactly sure what I was doing with it until I got halfway through.  
  
The dates of the journal was more-or-less random - the first one, anyway. Kaoru's birthday (June 2nd) came from a K&K website because I couldn't translate the kanji in the Kenshin Kaden. If anyone knows for sure that it's wrong, I'd love to hear from you, ^_^

Oh the irony... I just happened to post this on June 5, which also happens to be my birthday. *blows a few party favours* No, I didn't plan this, I swear.  
  
The original title of this chapter was "Bible". I wasn't really prepared to delve into anything religious, to be honest... besides, this was much more enjoyable, I think...

_Reviewer Responses_:

**Kaa-chan**: O_o I can't imagine writing entire fics based on these little ideas... well, some of them, maybe, but a lot of them I'm at a loss as to what to write... oh well. And maybe I'll go past 100 chapters, but in that case I'd probably write a sequel, ^_^ Thanks so much for taking the time to e-mail me. It really means a lot. As for the "busu" chapter... I rather like that thought. I can't actually agree or disagree because I'm not exactly sure what I was thinking at the time! But maybe it was a combination of both Kenshin and Kenji's words. You never know, ^_~  
  
**Suns Golden Ray**: Ah, well that's a relief. I'm always nervous that it doesn't make sense... 5 hours to get to the chapter? Wow! I hate it when ff.net doesn't want to cooperate...

**Calger459**: You made it in the nick of time, ^_~ Thanks for all the comments. No mothballs? I'll have to remember that... *makes a mental note about both fics and her own kimono - not that it'd ever be put away for years! Ha ha...*

More coming soon!


	61. Chapter 61 Remember

Disclaimer: Not mine! *huff*

~*~

Kendo no Go  
In The Language of Kendo  
A Fanfic in 100 Chapters  
Akai Kitsune  
~*~  
61) Remember  
~*~

_ 'I remember being loved, so loved that I thought I would burst into a thousand pieces, broken apart by such love and slowly put back together by hands, warm and gentle, firm and strong, loving, so loving.'_

_ 'I remember light, caressing my skin with the warmth and beauty of life that was forever, never-ending, so full of hope and vitality, it could continue unceasing.'_

_ 'I remember dreams, the brightness of not knowing what the future might hold, not really caring, for I knew I was safe, and warm, and loved, so loved.'_

_ 'I remember the safety of that love, the security of family and gentle care, of warm eyes full of mirth and joy, of arms wrapped around me to ensure that I always felt as though nothing in the world could harm me, nothing at all.'_

_ 'I remember the world I lived in, full of adventure and magic, a sense of carelessness about me, knowing that everything was fine, everything was wonderful, and I could be a child forever without knowing the cares of reality which lay past the shadows, without knowing that they might someday show themselves to me.'_

_ 'I remember the shadows flickering in the light of my joy, my love, my life, threatening to ruin everything I cared for.'_

_ 'I remember fear, licking the bare wounds of my heart as people died around me, drawing near to leech slowly at the blood of my soul like a vengeful demon, leaving me empty, crying, wanting for what I could no longer have.'_

_ 'I remember the sound, loud and oppressive, of the shattering of dreams, watching as they fell to pieces around me, broken, but not by love, never by love.'_

_ 'I remember love, how I ached inside when it was gone, taken from me by the world I once loved, once felt joy in, once laughed in, and I remember how I once felt such love, so strong it broke me and brought me together again.'_

_ 'I remember pain, knowing that once you are broken, you can never truly return to the way you were before.'_

_'I remember tears.'_  
  
~*~  
  
_All memory is revisionist. All language is apocryphal. All memory is collective, the sum of all your selves. All language is learned and all the stories you tell yourself are hazarding a guess._

_The antonym of memory is oblivion._

_The antidote of oblivion is memory._

~*~  
  
This was... an odd chapter. Difficult to write - to be honest, I was clueless as to what to write about, until I took a peek in my English textbook and noticed some helpful hints on writing. It said to begin a piece of work with "I remember" and go from there. If you get stuck, start over again with "I remember" and continue. Once I read this, the idea came to me, and I began to write. It was really great, ^_^  
  
The final section is directly from Diane Schoemperlen's novel. I claim no credit for that; I merely cut out a sentence or so. It was written so nicely I couldn't help it, really.  
  
This is written in Kenshin's POV. Not much else to say, really...  
  
The original title to this chapter is "Memory". Interestingly enough, Kioku, Kaoru's mother's name (in this fic) translates to "memory"... funny...

_Reviewer Responses_:

**The Angry Generalization**: Well, happy and merry unbirthday to you, then. ^_^  
  
**Jason M. Lee**: Thanks for the date correction... I might change it if I overcome my laziness, ^_^;;  
  
**Suns Golden Ray**: *smacks self* Well that was stupid, O_o Oh well. Heh.  
  
**Espi**: Hehe, thanks. I had a good one...  
  
**Fabi-chan**: I strive for excellence when encouraged. Or maybe it's the sugar. I'll never know.  
  
**Jedi-Iwakura**: When it's done I'll write MORE, of course! ^_^  
  
**animefanrk2k**: Well, since they're so short, I just fly through most of them. Except during exam time, -_-;;  
  
**Gochan**: Ah... thanks so much. I was a little puzzled by it, but I'm glad people enjoy them...  
  
**Iram**: And that's why I never did get into the habit of keeping a diary... I'm already pretty paranoid by nature. I think keeping a diary would shoot my nerves straight to hell. Heh... it's strange... even while trying to keep her in character, I keep adding a little part of myself to Kaoru in this fic... I should be careful about that, ^_^  
  
**amamiya**: Haha, same here. I love to sit around in class and just think about stuff, whether it's relevant or not. Some of the best Kendo chapters are the result of my daily escape from math class. Really, it should be illegal to put such a dull class so early in the morning... thanks for all your comments. I'm glad people can relate to some of these stories, ^_^ *goes back to laughing over RKFDS... so true*

More coming soon!


	62. Chapter 62 Catfish

Disclaimer: Not mine! *huff*

~*~

Kendo no Go  
In The Language of Kendo  
A Fanfic in 100 Chapters  
Akai Kitsune  
~*~  
62) Catfish  
~*~

Kaoru hated catfish. Kenshin discovered this fact the hard way, in his attempt to make a gift of his impressive catch one day - her birthday, he assumed, thanks to Tae-san's interference - but was received by her horrified expression and disappointed anger.

It was a constant, frustrating affliction, his inability to make her happy. She seemed cheerful enough, day by day, but whenever he tried, made even the slightest effort to please her, it was thrown back in his face because he never knew precisely how his intention was to be done.

It was no one's fault, really; he simply did not know what to do.

_'It had never been this difficult with Tomoe,'_ he thought miserably one day, slumping against the laundry tub after Kaoru's unexpected response to his latest endeavour. _ 'Tomoe gave the same response to everything, never left me guessing. How did things become so complex?'_

How was he to know that snapdragons gave her a rash? She had never told him, after all.

It was then that the realization came to him: he had never asked.

And it was true, of course; so true that he remained there, blinking in surprise, for a long time. He didn't really ask her much at all, about her past, her likes and dislikes. It was as if, the moment she told him she did not care about his past, he had automatically assumed the same for himself.

_ 'How could I have been so shallow?'_

_ 'The past does not make the person, after all.'_

_ '... and wouldn't Kaoru laugh to hear me - _me_ - say that.'_

_ 'Would she laugh...?'_

After that, he began to place less effort into doing things to please her, and more into finding out what would please her. He learned that she loved to have a piping hot bath after training at the dojos across town, and so, at her return, there was always a fire and steaming water waiting for her. He learned that she enjoyed his ohaji - _not_ Megumi's, at least not as much - especially when he added just the right amount of flavour, or the perfect fruit in the center. He learned that she melted in his arms when he rubbed her shoulders, her tension dissolving in his ministering care.

He learned that he took great pleasure in making her happy.

"But - what makes you happy?"

She caught him off guard with her question, as he was tossing logs onto a prepared fire beneath the bathtub. He was honestly surprised, but he merely smiled in response, turning back to his work.

"When you are happy," he said softly, "Then I'll always be happy, Kaoru-dono."

"Promise me?"

So much like a child. "Aa."

She hugged him, then; wrapped her arms so tightly around his shoulders that when his breath caught in his throat, he wasn't sure if it was a reaction to emotion or lack of air. He didn't speak, and she remained silent until she pulled away, murmuring her thanks as she headed for the bath.

He had no clue, no idea whatsoever, what he could have said at that moment.

He was never to know that his silence had been more than enough.

~*~

If any of you are wondering why I seemed to lose focus and drifted off the original topic, this was intentional. I did another parallel to the novel, ^_^  
  
The original title of the chapter was "Sheep". Baa.

More coming soon!


	63. Chapter 63 Bath

Disclaimer: Not mine! *huff*

Note: Those who have not seen the engagement ring episode, there are spoilers ahead. And seriously you guys, you're missing out, ^_~ It's a riot.

~*~

Kendo no Go  
In The Language of Kendo  
A Fanfic in 100 Chapters  
Akai Kitsune  
~*~  
63) Bath  
~*~

In the days immediately following Kenshin's unknowing proposal, Kaoru often enjoyed a good sulk. She would stalk around the dojo, finding something, someone to vent on, whether they knew themselves to be a target or not. Kenshin himself was wary of her for a long time, uneasy and nervous about what he might say or do to remedy what he had already done. He assumed she was furious at him, even after her temper had been quelled by his gift of flowers.

She was, in truth, embarrassed.

What woman wouldn't be, she thought to herself, gazing mournfully at her naked fingers, where a beautiful sapphire ring had once rested.

_ 'After practically floating around the dojo all day, thinking I was finally...'_

_ '... finally getting married...'_

_ 'And Kenshin... Kenshin didn't say a thing.'_

She couldn't really blame him. Tae had manipulated the situation quite cleverly, armed with the knowledge of Kenshin's ignorance of Western customs, and Kaoru's own tendency to turn a blind eye to what was so obviously clear in front of her. Kaoru knew - in her heart of hearts - that Kenshin didn't mean to propose. He appeared naive at times, but he had far greater tact than to ask for her hand in front of everyone. He was a very private person, and he was not apt to tell others more than he deemed fit.

Announcing an engagement to his friends before she even accepted was simply not something he would do.

But still... the hope was there; so strong, so fierce and desperate, she didn't want to have doubts. She didn't want to sit and think about how unlikely the situation was, how many holes could be found in her perfect bliss. She didn't want to consider the fact that he had never, not even for a moment, asked her to marry him.

_ "Sorry to keep you waiting..."_

_ "I have this for you, Kaoru-dono..."_

Kaoru found refuge in the bath, spending hours at a time just lying within the waters, gazing at the steam as it rose in faint clouds around her. Her thoughts shimmered and faded like the mist, vague and jaded, without any true source or reason. In the silence of the bathhouse she would chant, like a mantra of hope and despair at the same time, _I love you, Kenshin. I truly do love you. Kenshin, can't you see how much I love you?_

Time passed, the water growing colder as the flames beneath it died out - following her instructions, Kenshin had neglected to add more wood to it in order to save some for later use - and gradually, her words began to change. Silent tears flooded her eyes, falling down her cheeks in a steady stream.

_I love you, Kenshin. Why can't you see how much I love you? Don't you love me, Kenshin?_

_You don't love me, Kenshin._

With each thought, echoing eternally in her heart, she thought she might break. She thought she would fall to pieces, like glass, or her favourite clay vase, painted and beautiful, but now lost and broken. No better than garbage once the emptiness of its insides were revealed.

_I love you Kenshin. You don't love me, Kenshin._

She could feel the pieces falling, like the ring from her finger. It was not a soft, beautiful chime one would expect - no, that was the sound of joy, of wedding bells. It was not the resounding cry of fulfilled bliss, but a dull, empty throbbing in her soul, painful and persistent. She could feel it.

Thud. Thud.

She shut her eyes tightly, curling her arms around her body to hold back her shivers.

Thud. Thud.

_I love you, Kenshin._

Thud. Thud.

_You don't love me, Kenshin._

Thud. Thud.

_Maybe I don't love you, Kenshin._

Thud. Thud.

_Don't you love me, Kenshin?_

Silence. Her eyes snapped open, fingers digging into slick, wrinkling skin. It made her look old. Old, empty, ugly.

Busu.

Like a broken vase. Garbage.

Silence. Silence, except for her tears, flowing, falling, mingling with the water. So cold.

Silence.

Thud. Thud.

The sound of flames churning stubbornly, then flaring to life.

Slowly, the water began to grow warm once again.

_I love you, Kenshin._

_I love you. I love you._

"Kaoru-dono? Sumanei, the water was cold, wasn't it? We were running low on wood, so I went out to chop some more. We should have enough for a long time, now. But I'm sorry I made you wait."

_ "Sorry to keep you waiting..."_

"Is it warm enough, now?"

_I love you, Kenshin._

"Hai," she murmured, her voice drifting lightly above the returning clouds of steam. "Hai, it's warm enough. It's just perfect."

_I love you._

"... I'm so glad, Kaoru-dono."

_I love you._

~*~  
  
When I first began this chapter, I wasn't sure what to do with it. It was inspired by the scene of Kaoru in the bath during the ring episode, giggling to herself and admiring Kenshin's gift. I thought to myself that having a bath later would probably upset her, and after that sort of experience, doubts are certain to appear. I find it hard to believe that anyone - even someone as optomistic as Kaoru - can be so sure of themselves all the time. I'm pretty sure that once in a while she must have wondered if Kenshin loved her - but, more importantly, if she even loved him. But we all know what she chose to do in the end, ^_^  
  
I kept the original title. I happened to like it.  
  
This was a senseless WAFF chapter, um, I think. See, it's possible for me, sometimes, ^_^

_Reviewer Responses_:

**amamiya**: Ah, you visit TFME? You should post, ^_^ It's a great board. The novel itself gets a little more sex-oriented (something I'm not prepared to write) and sometimes mouthy, but otherwise it's very similar to how I'm writing. The protagonist is a lot more cynical than Kaoru, I'll admit. Just one of those things I had to overlook, ^_^ The "Kaoru-hates-catfish" comes from the engagement ring episode. 66, I think, or close to it. It's such an awesome episode!  
  
**M**: The main focus is Kaoru, mostly because that's how it is in the basis novel. However, as I said in chapter 50, I'll most likely be doing a sequel... and it'll probably revolve around Kenshin, just to be fair, ^_^ He gets a few chapters in this one, though...  
**  
Fabi-chan**: The novel it's based on (you can even check, it's at the end of chapter 1 as well as the teaser) is called "In The Language of Love: A Novel in 100 Chapters", by Diane Schoemperlen. She's a Canadian author, and it was out of print I thought, (for a while anyway), so good luck finding it. I thought it was worth the wait, ^_^

More coming soon!


	64. Chapter 64 Fight

Disclaimer: Not mine! *huff*

~*~

Kendo no Go  
In The Language of Kendo  
A Fanfic in 100 Chapters  
Akai Kitsune  
~*~  
64) Fight  
~*~

Kenshin was late.

Kaoru hated when he came home late; it brought to mind far too many harsh memories, dark thoughts of the day he had come home, bathed in twilight and fireflies, and then never returned at all.

The thought terrified her.

_ "Kenshin... isn't coming home."_

It was less than three weeks before Kenji's third birthday when a letter arrived at the dojo, addressed to Kenshin. It was, Kaoru noticed, from the police department. She was not happy to see it.

"It's a brief mission to Sendai," he told her later that night, a reluctant, almost stricken look on his face. "Yamagata-san contacted me personally. They've had some trouble with one of the government officials positioned there, and he thought... a familiar face would give the situation an advantage."

Kaoru frowned tightly at his choice of words. "You don't have the sakabatou," she said quietly, unable to meet his eyes.

"Aa." He gave her a weak smile and a shrug. "But sometimes an extra presence alone is enough to solve a problem."

She was silent for a long time, considering this. It was true, she knew, and even without his sword he was certainly not helpless. He had fought unarmed plenty of times before - probably countless times in the past, when he was unlucky enough to lose his weapon.

"Kenji's birthday-" she began, her voice breaking in mid-sentence.

His arms were around her instantly, squeezing her shoulders in gentle comfort, his face pressed into her hair.

"I'll be home," he whispered, pressing his lips against her cheek in silent apology. "It's only for about a week, and I'll be taking the train home. We'll have the ticket booked early. It's only a day away from Tokyo, love..."

"But..."

"I'll be home," he repeated, his cheek nuzzled against her own, feeling her warmth and hoping he would not feel her tears.

Kaoru pursed her lips, determined not to cry, if only he could give her one thing. "You promise?"

"Aa," he smiled, his eyes closing briefly. "And I'll bring something special for Kenji. All the way from Sendai... he'll like that, won't he?"

_ 'He'll love it because it's from you. He'll love it if you're home...'_

_ "I'll be home..."_

He left the following day on the train, courtesy of the man who had hired him, claiming that the sooner he left, the sooner he could go home. She agreed, of course, and sent him off with a wave and a smile, holding a dozing Kenji in her arms as they bid him farewell on the early spring morning.

For two weeks, she heard nothing.

At first she was curious, checking for mail every day after his departure, knowing he wouldn't send a letter for at least a week - if at all, since it was such a brief absence - but wishing to be sure nonetheless. Then as time passed, she grew annoyed, the date of Kenji's birthday drawing closer with no father in sight. Not even a hint of where he might be or when he might be back. Her anger was fueled by her desire to protect the child from the inevitable disappointment of Kenshin's absence. It would be the first birthday - indeed, the first real holiday in their family - that Kenshin missed, and she was not pleased. As familiar companions to her anger, fear and worry gnawed at her heart.

Finally, a scarce few days before Kenji turned three, Yahiko arrived at the dojo, his face grim and more than a little worried. The sakabatou at his waist gave her little comfort - even though it was months after Kenshin had passed on the sword, she still saw it as odd, and sometimes wished Kenshin had held onto it a little longer, if only to reassure her when he left for any sort of mission.

"Yahiko?" she looked up from her game with Kenji, surprised to see him. "What are you doing here?"

Yahiko smiled slightly as Kenji toddled over to him, wrapping chubby arms around his striped hakama. "Hey there, kiddo," he scuffed a hand through the boy's auburn hair. Kaoru felt a twinge of apprehension at Yahiko's false cheer. Kenji was always able to make his "big brother" relax, but nothing seemed to change the worry lurking behind Yahiko's eyes.

He tugged a sheet of paper from his gi, holding it out to her. "I ran into Katsu on my way here," he mumbled, grasping Kenji by the waist and hoisting the boy onto his shoulders.

"Sanosuke's friend, right? The writer?" Kaoru kept her eyes on Yahiko's expression, barely skimming over the printed page in her hands.

"Yeah," he nodded briefly, glancing notably at the paper she held. "He gave me that; his latest newspaper. Said there'd be an article you might want to see."

Kaoru frowned doubtfully. "Well, I'm really not sure..." Katsu normally published articles about the inherent evils of the Meiji government - hardly something that spurred her interest.

"It was a government official that Kenshin went to see, wasn't it?" Yahiko murmured quizzically, his voice carrying an enigmatic tone she had heard before - in Kenshin, she realized.

_Kenshin._

_ 'The government... of course.' _ Her nervousness increasing, she searched the paper fearfully for whatever news Yahiko was referring too.

She must have looked terribly frantic, for he reached out and pointed to the article, supplying the information she needed even as her eyes met the kanji it contained.

"There was a storm," he said simply, his tone dull for fear of betraying his emotions. "An earthquake caused it. It hit Sendai pretty badly."

Kaoru's fingers shook, devouring every word of the article. Negotiations with a government official accused of theft and illegal associations... police intervention... even an attempted assassination.

_Was the deadly storm,_ the article seemed to growl at her, _simply an act of divine justice against the corrupt government of our fair country?_

The official's seaside housing had been utterly consumed, torn to pieces by the colossal wave that struck a good portion of the town. Fires had spread throughout the city, and many casualties had been reported. Much of the communication was affected - mail, telegraphs - as well as travel. A good number of stables were flooded and useless for the moment, and even a portion of the railroad was damaged.

The paper warned all those who had associates in Sendai to expect little - if any - contact for several days. Death reports were still coming in.

Kaoru wondered, briefly, if she would faint.

"Kaoru?" Yahiko called questioningly, as her expression grew even more stricken. She looked up, her eyes glittering, and he gave her a broad smile. "Oi, don't be worried. It's Kenshin, isn't it? He'll be fine."

_ 'Then why are you so frightened?'_ she wanted to ask him, but felt too afraid of the implications. The thought of Kenshin - _her_ Kenshin - somewhere in Sendai, alone, stranded, maybe sick, or wounded, or -

_ - dead -_

But Kenji was watching her, and she couldn't think such things; not with the child as observant as he was. So she took him inside, tucked him in for his daily nap, and returned to her chores as if nothing had gone amiss.

Later that night, when all was calm in the dojo, she attacked Kenshin's headrest with the warm, wet onslaught of her tears, helpless against the terrifying thought of living without him.

Despite her fears, Kenshin arrived home at the dojo seven days later, in the midst of a miserable thunderstorm. He slogged inside the yard, wet and weary, a strained look in his eyes as he headed for the house.

Kenji was asleep already, thankfully; he would not have wished his ghastly appearance on any child, least of all his own whose birthday he had missed. That fact still stung.

His wife was drinking tea in the dining area when he slid open the shoji, gazing at her with an expression of extreme relief on his face.

"Tadaima," he whispered, breathless.

She was silent, staring up at him in alarm - or surprise - or... disbelief?

He barely had a moment to consider what he saw when she suddenly flung herself at him, her fists stamping fiercely against his chest, tears coursing down her cheeks.

"Dammit," she chanted in a despairing tone, fingers clutching at his dripping gi with the desperation of a lost child. "Dammit, dammit, dammit."

"Kaoru...?" he uttered her name in a lost, baffled voice, straining to figure out what she was so vehement about.

"Dammit," she repeated, clenching her eyes shut, "Where were you?! You said you'd be home - you _ promised_, Kenshin, you promised-"

A pang of grief pierced its way into Kenshin's heart, and he nodded, submitting himself to her punishment.

"You didn't even send a letter," she sobbed, continuing her tirade. "You didn't even _try_!"

He didn't answer her, standing in the silence and the cold, his hands very still at his sides. He had tried, actually; had tried several times, but was met by the same firm refusal, by the same answer. _You'll get there before it does, Himura-san. Don't bother, just wait for the next train. A few more days, now._

"Why didn't you come?" she wailed, her head shaking in denial of whatever excuse he might give. "We heard about the storm - how it destroyed the official's home - we didn't know what to think, and you didn't come home, Kenshin..."

His arms finally rose, curving around her body and hugging her close. She tightened her grip on him, ignoring the wetness which seeped through her kimono.

"Dammit..." she whispered, her voice muffled in his gi. "Dammit, Kenshin..."

Kenshin brushed his fingers through her loose hair, breathing in the scent he had missed for three long weeks.

"What would you have me do, Kaoru?" he said softly, hesitant. "Not come home at all?"

_'Yes,'_ she wanted to say, in her anger, in the lingering thoughts of her despair and fear. _'Yes.'_ The word stuck in her throat, sharp and biting.

_ 'Come home.'_

Instead, she curved closer to his body, burying her face in his shoulder and letting the tears of helpless anger - and joy - mingle with the rain.

~*~  
  
I think this is the longest chapter so far, ^_^ Pretty good for starting out with no plans at all.  
  
I was wracking my brain trying to figure out what city to use. It had to be a coastline, one with easy access to the railroad for Kenshin to make a speedy return. P.L. Nunn's fanfic once again made a contribution to this story - according to what I read there, Sendai is a day's train ride away from Tokyo. How perfect is that?  
  
The original title of this chapter was "Cottage". The idea was the couple having a fight, however, I made things a little different...

_Reviewer Responses_:

**Calger459**: Wooooow! Long review, O_o My cottage is great; it's on Georgian Bay and it's one of the most beautiful spots EVER! It's also pretty secluded, so I don't have to worry about too many annoying tourists, :P I should continue to update Kendo no Go regularly until I leave, and I'll add a little note to the very last chapter, like I did with LSRV.  
  
**Aimi-chan**: That's good, because I need help hunting down that muse a lot... *sigh* Oh well, it's not as bad at some authors...  
  
**Michiru Kashyuuno**: With so many people cheering me on, I have no doubts that I'll reach 100 chapters! There are a couple of chapters that deal with Kenshin and Kaoru's engagement, though not in great detail. I'm not sure if I'll do that, but it's something to consider, isn't it, ^_^  
  
**Gochan**: Thanks ^_^ I think this fic really needed a better balance between the misery chapters and meaningless fluff, and I think I've pretty much reached it, so I'm happy.

More coming soon!


	65. Chapter 65 Shukuchi

Disclaimer: Not mine! *huff*

~*~

Kendo no Go  
In The Language of Kendo  
A Fanfic in 100 Chapters  
Akai Kitsune  
~*~  
65) Shukuchi  
~*~

There was, according to Sanosuke, only one person in the world who was faster than Kenshin: a young man by the name of Seta Soujirou, Shishio's right-hand man - boy, really - and the strongest of the Juppongatana. Kaoru found this almost incomprehensible; Kenshin was so terribly fast already, and the idea of someone being faster...

And far more deadly, judging by the damage done on Kenshin's body during the battle. Soujirou had not only destroyed the original sakabatou in their first fight, but had struck Kenshin in the back - something which had never, in all his time at the dojo, happened before.

"He looked like he was about your age, Jou-chan," Sano told her, looking at her with a curious expression on his face, as if he had only then realized. "It's hard to believe... he looked just like a kid, but he was so good... if Kenshin wasn't the sort of man he is, Soujirou probably would've..."

Kaoru didn't want to hear it. She didn't want to hear what she had spent the entire day dreading - that Kenshin could die, that he very nearly had died at the hands of this boy. Not when he had come home so close to death. Not when, even as Sano spoke, the rurouni was fighting a constant battle for his life.

She felt a little envious at the natural talent for the sword which seemed to appear all around her. Kenshin was skilled beyond belief, the legends of the Bakumatsu manslayer holding merit in many forms; Soujirou, his opponent, having an inborn talent which developed into a deadly style of assassination as he grew older; even Yahiko, the one who learned all he knew from her - and his observations of Kenshin - was skilled enough to earn himself the ougi in less than six months. How long had it taken her?

But Yahiko had different motives, she knew. Different needs in his time, at his age, than she had during her own training. There had been more crucial, dangerous battles in the time they had known Kenshin than in their entire lives before he arrived.

It still made her feel a twinge of jealousy, remembering how she had needed Kenshin's help to defend the honour of her school against Gohei, when he never required her aid in his battles. If anything, she was more of a liability to him.

_ "If I have to protect someone when I fight, I can't possibly win."_

She had grown, though; she at least gave herself credit for that, as would Kenshin, if asked. She had developed her strength and courage a great deal when the stream of assassins and unusual warriors began appearing at the Kamiya dojo, wreaking havoc and threatening her rurouni. She had learned to deal with the strangest men, with all their bizarre weaponry, crying bloody murder and damaging her dojo - her _ father's_ dojo - just to make Kenshin angry.

It always seemed to take them so long to discover that such damage was unnecessary; it was danger to his friends, not his home, that brought out the best in Himura Kenshin.

_ 'But... what _is_ the best...?'_

The best warrior was, unmistakably, the dreaded Hitokiri Battousai, assassin of legends, feared by all - even those who had never seen him in battle. Even Kaoru herself was wary of each appearance, though she would never admit that to Kenshin.

The personality that lay dearest to her heart was, of course, the sweet-tempered rurouni; slow to anger, quick to forgive, easy to smile. Harder to laugh, but that remained as simply a challenge for her.

But the best man?

_ "I promise..."_

_ "I'll protect you."_

The best man was the man Kenshin had become in the time he had spent with them all - his family - transforming into not _just_ the rurouni, and not _just_ the hitokiri, but someone stronger, someone wiser.

Someone warmer, easier to love and easier to share love with.

_ 'That's the man I want as my husband,'_ she often mused, watching him work around the dojo in his usual routine. _'The man I want to spend my life with.'_

_ 'The man I really love.'_

And, really, what could be better?

~*~  
  
Poor Soujirou. The title was for him, and all he got was half a page, ^_^ Oh well...  
  
The original title of this chapter was "Swift". I was thinking God-speed or something, but that was too close to two words, and when I thought of speed, Soujirou kept coming to mind before Kenshin... so I decided to include him.

_Reviewer Responses_:

**Iram**: Heh, your review echoed just about everything I was thinking of for "Fight". It's nice to know people can interpret things in my writing...  
  
**Aimi-chan**: Well, you're going about it the right way! To find inspiration you have to go after it with a stick. Good luck, they're elusive little jerks, ^_~

**Ela**: Aww... you just finished catching up and then I update, ^_^;;

More coming soon!


	66. Chapter 66 Aoi

Disclaimer: Not mine! *huff*

Written in omniscient narrative for Kenshin.

~*~

Kendo no Go  
In The Language of Kendo  
A Fanfic in 100 Chapters  
Akai Kitsune  
~*~  
66) Aoi  
~*~

The colour of your clothes, dark and dull, giving you the ability to melt into the shadows of the night and render yourself invisible to your enemies - or, if need be, your allies. The shade so close to ebony it seems as though it is the very apparel of death; walking death, the shadow assassin.

The colour of the growing darkness in your own heart, circling your soul like a starving wolf, seeking to tear apart and destroy all that is good, all that is healthy and worthwhile.

The colour of the gi you wear, gaunt yet familiar, stained and heavy with the blood of the men you have killed. The blood of men, and of one woman.

One was enough.

The colour of eyes, beautiful, shining eyes which stare into your own with anger and determination, an accusation on the lips underneath. The eyes, deep as the night sky, which draw you in, force you to stare and try - try with all your heart, even as you fail - and make you wonder just how such eyes can be so dark, yet so light at the same time.

The colour of eyes, flashing with inner strength that you envy and long to protect, even as you slowly begin to realize that you would do anything - _anything_ - to keep such eyes from losing that wondrous integrity.

The colour of her heart, broken and bleeding as you whisper words of farewell into her ear, holding her in your arms for what must be - _must be_, for her safety, for her own good - the last and only time. The colour of her heart as she loses the battle she fought so hard against - the pull of duty which Kyoto represented for her, for you - and allows herself to fall, to cry.

The colour of your heart, so dark it feels as though it is returning to its past obscurity, as you turn your back and leave her, footsteps heavy even as the wolves snap at your heels.

The colour of the ribbon she offers you, a gift as sure as her smile and her friendship, just as treasured. This colour, suddenly stained, suddenly heavy, but with _ your_ blood, shed for her sake. And perhaps that is not so bad.

The colour of her eyes as they flash with indignant anger, holding the bloody ribbon in her hands, even as relief fills the deep pools of her soul's windows, knowing you are alive, you are coming back to where you belong.

The colour of the ribbon you assume she will choose as a replacement for the one you ruined. The colour of her eyes as she smiles shyly, offering a different kind, just as soft, just as comforting, but puzzling to you. The colour you would have given is so much more pure and beautiful than the one she chose.

The colour of the kimono she wears on the day you hold her hand in your own, taking her as your wife, knowing you will treasure her more than any ribbon, more than any scrap of worn clothing, falling apart at the seams and heavy with old memories. Knowing you want to take her in your arms and never let go, never let yourself forget how much you love her.

The colour of her eyes as she smiles, glistening with tears and shining with joy as she tightens her fingers around your own, just as nervous, but just as loving, and oh, so beautiful.

The colour of your angel.

~*~

This was a weird chapter. Looking back, I think it was sort of cheesy, but it wasn't well-structured... *sigh* I didn't have many plans for it, so I just started writing and went with what came to mind.  
  
Writing this way is hard, so if you notice any out-of-place pronouns, please be sure to let me know!  
  
The original title (and translation for "Aoi") is Blue.

More coming soon!


	67. Chapter 67 Breakfast

Disclaimer: Not mine! *huff*

~*~

Kendo no Go  
In The Language of Kendo  
A Fanfic in 100 Chapters  
Akai Kitsune  
~*~  
67) Breakfast  
~*~

Breakfast at the Kamiya dojo was always an adventure. That was one thing Kaoru remembered easily of the time following Kenshin's arrival at her home, bringing with him a string of assorted strangers who quickly became her close-knit family. It surprised her, really, how a man so soft-spoken and gentle could influence as many people - in so few words and actions - as he did.

Although she had to admit that anything Kenshin did or said was strong enough to leave an impact on _anyone_, least of all an impressionable group of lonely youth who sought a balancing force, something to hold onto.

It was so strange how a wanderer, bound to nothing, as secure to his position as the wind might be, became their anchor.

Kaoru could remember when breakfast was quiet and uneasy, containing a tension that was almost audible in its intensity. The hidden emotions shared between her parents were always a mystery to her; a secret, carefully concealed, ethereal to those who were not part of it.

She envied them, and at the same time she felt sorry for their situation. How could two people stand being together for as long as they did, when they were unable to share what they felt with each other?

_'I'll never marry a man I can't talk to,' she vowed. 'I couldn't live like that.'_

After she married Kenshin, Kaoru found herself thinking back upon that vow rather frequently. It was true, she and Kenshin conversed more openly than most married couples, but what they talked about brought about a strange debate.

She loved him, and he loved her; no one could argue with that.

But when it came down to it, she didn't know much about him at all.

_ 'Baka Kaoru!'_ she scolded herself, guilty at expecting more from him than he was willing to give. _'He's said it himself - he told you more than he's told _anyone_ in over ten years. Shouldn't that be enough?'_

It should be, shouldn't it? Kenshin had always seemed content, never asking for much of anything.

_ 'I should be like that, shouldn't I. I should be happy with what he's chosen to share with me.'_

_ 'He's given me his life... his love...'_

_ 'Yes, that should be enough...'_

The disappearance of Sanosuke, Megumi's departure to Aizu, and Yahiko's move to Sano's old house all joined to make the dojo far quieter than it used to be. Her practice and Kenshin's chores simply weren't enough to generate the level of noise that once broke the peace of the neighbourhood.

_ 'Our neighbours must be so relieved,' _she mused with a sad smile. _'I'm sure they must've been ready to come knocking on our doors demanding for us to be quiet, sometimes.'_

Truth be told, she didn't have many visitors after her father died. Her students came, of course - until that pesky false Battousai incident - but it seemed as though many of her father's friends lost interest in keeping in touch with their comrade's daughter.

_ '... no wonder I was lonely.'_

Kenshin's arrival changed all that. With rumours of the Battousai running rampant all over Tokyo, it was no wonder that the Kamiya dojo's gate was always bare. Her neighbours lay as silent strangers on the other side of the fence, distant and quiet.

But... it was all right. As long as she had Kenshin, she knew it was just fine.

_"It's a little lonely, but..."_

_ "We'll endure it."_

~*~  
  
Wow, this one was sort of badly structured, too. I must be getting tired, ^_^;; But perhaps that also comes from waking up (on my first day off!) at 8 against my will by a lawn mower. Baka neighbours...  
  
The original title of this chapter was "Hungry". I changed the content entirely, but what's the fun of making a parody if you can't change a few things, right? ^_~

_Reviewer Responses_:

**Calger459**: I'm getting there... slowly but surely... any ideas for another cooking chapter? Or maybe I'll just make something up, :P  
  
**Ela**: I have so few regular reviewers for this fic I think if I lost one I'd faint. ^_^;; Just kidding. I'd probably write just because I _can_... that's what I used to do (before discovering ff.net). I never realized an online posting site could be so addictive, though...  
  
**Iram**: I say "cheesy" to everything I write that is even remotely romantic. It's like a gut-reaction... sort of like cheese on crackers. It just _happens_. Glad you liked it though, ^_^

More coming soon!


	68. Chapter 68 Shinto

Disclaimer: Not mine! *huff*

~*~

Kendo no Go  
In The Language of Kendo  
A Fanfic in 100 Chapters  
Akai Kitsune  
~*~  
68) Shinto  
~*~

Kenshin was never much of a religious person. Truthfully, he never had any reason to put much thought into any all-powerful deities guiding his life's path. He didn't enjoy that idea, anyway.

Despite the dark turns his life had met with as he grew, he always took comfort in knowing it was _he_ who made his choices; as such, the redemption was his own to seek, and was not simply a string of the gods placed on his wrist to lead him along. He liked to believe that his choices had meaning, that he was able to change the world rather than rely on divine interference. Those were his original intentions, after all.

However, he learned quickly that even earthly purposes need the guidance of the gods. His assassination duties required the placement of a single sheet of paper on the body of his primary target, the phrase "Tenchuu" scrawled across it as a message of death to all who opposed their ideals - the ideals of those who honoured the Emperor, who was as revered as the gods themselves.

Even trusting in those ideals were not enough, sometimes; Kenshin often wondered why such a message was necessary. To excuse the Ishin Shishi from any incrimination of the murder? To make believe that the gods had sought out and destroyed this one man - a tax collector, now a secretary, now a minister of the government - for the sake of redeeming the lost honour of their sanctified country?

To pretend a hitokiri had not hunted each and every one of those walking corpses and cut them apart with his bloodstained swords?

Justice. _What is justice?_

During his time in Otsu with Tomoe, he often visited shrines for the dead, accompanying her upon her request. She never asked directly, but he somehow understood the unspoken wish. He didn't know enough about her past to know who she prayed for, or to, for that matter, but it never bothered him. She appeared to be content to leave him in the dark, and he was content to stay that way.

Revealed secrets always brought pain, it seemed.

Kyoto brought to him many memories - after ten years, he had expected it, of course - but he wasn't sure what spurred on his visit to the cemetery, giving flowers to Tomoe's long-neglected grave. The combined thoughts of guilt, resignation, and suppressed hope all worked together to grant him enough courage to follow the road that led him to the old temple by which she was buried. He didn't know how much pain he would feel at the sight of it.

He didn't know that, at the same time, he would feel such relief.

Inviting Kaoru to her grave was a halted idea brought to reality; he had considered it for a long time after revealing his past to his friends, but never acted upon it. Of all his family, she was the closest, and the one who had given him the most reason to fear as he spoke of his wife. He hadn't wanted her to fear him - something which had occurred only in rare occasions, when his battles were brought to the extreme and he was forced to bring forth the sealed hitokiri in his soul.

She surprised him, then, with her determination to keep him close to her - even closer than before, in fact, now that she knew so much more about him - and her lightfaced answer.

Of course she would go with him to Kyoto. She would love to, if it was all right with him.

It was just fine.

He was grateful, later, for her comforting presence at his side. Not simply because of his physical condition - he was in no state to travel alone, so soon after his battle with Enishi which brought him so close to death - but for the ache in his heart, the soft fluttering of emotions which pressed hard against the walls of his soul like a clawed vice, threatening to crush him if he could not keep a firm rein on it.

He was grateful for her hand in his, feeling her warmth through the bandages, the calluses, the blood. For her smile, the brightness in her eyes as he helped her to her feet again, even as she carried his burdened heart on her shoulders.

~*~

Starting to get back on track, now... I feel better now, ^_^ Sorry I jumped around so much, but that's half the fun of this fic!  
  
The original title of this chapter was "Priest". I was thinking of doing a wedding chapter, but I didn't have any ideas whatsoever, so I went with something different. I hope it went all right...

More coming soon!


	69. Chapter 69 Umi

Disclaimer: Not mine! *huff*

~*~

Kendo no Go  
In The Language of Kendo  
A Fanfic in 100 Chapters  
Akai Kitsune  
~*~  
69) Umi  
~*~

Kaoru often wondered why love was like an ocean. She found this to be a horrible analogy; however beautiful and endless the ocean was, it always seemed cold to her, cold and empty.

It was the distance, though, that really bothered her. Whenever she was by the sea she felt as though she would be swallowed alive, pulled out and left to drift by the giant waves which tugged at her feet as she stood among them, gazing out into the vast body before her. It was all the same; nothing ever changed.

Was love like that?

Was love really an ocean, peaceful one moment, chaotic and churning the next, always a sea of indecision clashing for power over one's soul?

Was love a giant mass of emotion, swirling around in a person's heart, waiting to fixate on another and consume them completely, leaving them lost and disoriented by the flow of such feeling?

Was love a wondrous new world when you are part of it, full of colours and experiences far beyond the reality of what you are used to, while appearing empty and dead on the surface?

Was love an ocean?

Sometimes she wished it could be. It seemed to continue on forever, never ceasing, never ending, just flowing wildly over the shorelines.

But, deep down, she knew that the ocean could not properly represent love - well, certainly not the love she often felt in her own heart. Even the ocean, however broad and vast it seemed, had limits.

How could one truly describe love as being so limited?

She wanted love to be eternity - so simple a term, yet so complex at the same time - something that was boundless, timeless, indescribable and free from worldly restraints. The kind of love which took the path of infinity, always moving forward, never wavering, never giving up.

Never ending.

Love is a journey.

_ "I am a wanderer..."_

_ '... I... I...'_

_ 'I want to wander _with_ you, Kenshin...'_

_ "A journey without farewells, a beginning without end..."_

_ "I want to stay with you..."_

~*~  
  
This is what I call my "demented" chapter. My premise was one line, and I babbled. Please forgive me.  
  
Oh well, this is what happens when someone is sitting around, bored to death, with nothing to do but play video games and stare at a computer screen. It completely kills the imagination. I think I'd do better if I was in school. (Although that comment alone is enough to make me want to commit seppuku. Wouldn't Watsuki-sensei be proud?)  
  
The oro - I mean original chapter title is "Ocean". (That bad pun over there was a typo, I swear!) That's the translation of "Umi", that it is. (Ugh. I've resorted to using bad translations.)  
  
Okay, now I'm really done. (Finally).

_Reviewer Responses_:

**Michiru Kashyuuno**: ONLY 32? Er, 31 now... oi... I think I'm going to cry! ^_^;;  
  
**Ela**: Well, so long as they work for someone, heh. I'm a perfectionist, though... very bad.

More coming soon!


	70. Chapter 70 Atama

Disclaimer: Not mine! *huff*

~*~

Kendo no Go  
In The Language of Kendo  
A Fanfic in 100 Chapters  
Akai Kitsune  
~*~  
70) Atama  
~*~

Kenshin had a _very_ hard head.

It wasn't simply his ability to take the worst of physical abuse - from homicidal assassins to her own vengeful bokken - and pick himself up afterwards with barely a sweat. It was, consequentially, his infuriating sense of independence, firm and developed since his hitokiri days. For a long time, even after his stay at the dojo became extended whether he liked it or not, he kept mostly to himself, sharing nothing of himself or his past, as if it didn't matter.

And it didn't, Kaoru had to honestly admit, unless it was important.

Sometimes it was so important she almost wished she never had to know.

_ "The brother of-"_

But she _had_ to know, really, in order to understand him better. She had to know what kind of experiences he had been through in his past, she she could help support him more purely in the future.

_ "- Himura Tomoe -"_

Although it didn't change the fact that some things, she wished she could forget. She wished such things could be swept beneath the tatami, never to be thought of, never to be brought back in the dirty, ugly manner in which memories usually return.

_ "- The wife I killed -"_

She wished she could make _ him_ forget, sometimes.

_ "... with my own hands..."_

Kaoru often wondered what might have crossed Kenshin's mind, what thoughts could tug at his heart enough to make him abandon his training and become an assassin for the Revolution. He was always very headstrong, but she could scarcely imagine him as a teenager, the way he had described himself - proud, ignorant, determined to save the world whether or not it even wanted saving. A foolish brat, Hiko had called him; a stupid apprentice. It _was_ a stupid decision, Kenshin agreed, a sad smile on his face when he told her, but it was one that changed his life forever.

This description puzzled her, but it also left her curious, wanting more. She wished she could see this teenaged version of the man she loved, this obstinate, argumentative child he spoke of as if he were a different person entirely. She wanted to see what Kenshin had been before the memories of blood, death, and tears had shattered his innocence. She wanted to see his shy, stammering blushes as his comrades teased him about his stature, or the woman he brought home one day.

She told him this once; told him of her secret wish in a quiet voice, with a deep flush across her cheeks. He was startled, but then she heard his low chuckle, and she looked up to see him shaking his head.

"Kenshin?"

He smiled at her, apologetic, and shrugged. "I'm sorry, Kaoru, but I was just surprised that you couldn't see it..."

"See what?" she demanded, insistent and more than a little annoyed by his secrecy.

He glanced over to the side, looking outside, where Yahiko could be seen practicing, a determined look in his eyes. At fourteen - that awkward age, Kenshin called it, worse than the years before, when they had first known him - he was slowly becoming intolerable, rarely listening, always arguing, often disappearing for days at a time, doing his "own thing" as he explained to them in an impatient voice.

Kaoru's eyes widened in realization.

"You understand," Kenshin murmured softly, squeezing her hand. "Do you think you could have handled two of us?"

She didn't respond; could do nothing but stare at her student, trying hard to imagine Kenshin acting that way. No matter how she tried, the image would not come. She supposed it was something that could only exist in _his_ head, _his_ mind, which was so open, yet forever closed to her.

"She was too soft for me."

Kenshin's words - words spoken at a time when he was feeling a little more open than usual - echoed in her heart, dwelling on the statement when she was alone, when he was on a mission, or with Yahiko or Kenji... sometimes even when he lay beside her in that familiar state of half-sleep that made him awaken at the slightest movement, the smallest indication of discomfort. She thought upon the choice of terms he gave to her, puzzling over what it truly meant.

_Soft_. How was she soft?

Soft hands, hard heart.

Warm hands, cold heart.

_Too soft for me._

Then what did that make him? Hard hands, hard heart? Cold heart?

Cold eyes, cold heart.

_ 'Truly, Kenshin... you think so badly of yourself, but...'_

_ '... how can you be so wrong?'_

Hard hands, soft head.

Cold eyes, warm heart.  
  
~*~  
  
Revised July 10, 2003.  
  
While I didn't do a full rewrite, it make sliiiightly more sense this time, ^_^;; Thanks to Calger-san who inspired the idea of writing a bit of Kenshin's more obnoxious time of life.  
  
The original title (and translation of my title) is "Head". Supposed to be a parallel of "Yasashi" (Chapter 7) and "Katai" (48).

More coming soon!


	71. Chapter 71 Chores

Disclaimer: Not mine! *huff*

~*~

Kendo no Go  
In The Language of Kendo  
A Fanfic in 100 Chapters  
Akai Kitsune  
~*~  
71) Chores  
~*~

Dinner preparation always looked so easy when Kenshin made it. She liked - and hated - to watch him as he cooked, and it seemed to her as if he simply tossed everything together, never pausing, never struggling, never having to wrestle with how much or how little of each ingredient to add.

She envied his skill, always thinking of her own meager abilities in the kitchen. Certainly, whatever she cooked was edible, but it lacked the proper flavour that Kenshin always seemed to get right. She wanted to please _him_ for once; she wanted to cook a wonderful meal and surprise him. She wanted to see his face light up as he tasted the food she prepared, without the forced smile or calming gestures that really, it tasted just fine, even when it didn't, even when Yahiko mumbled complaints if he was present.

_ "How does it taste?"_

_ "It's wonderful, Kaoru, just wonderful. I've never tasted anything like it."_

She could dream, of course, but when it came to preparing supper, she always found herself fighting with the recipes, bemoaning her failures in silence. At first, of course, Kenshin offered to help, but after receiving a biting, defensive retort or shrewd glare one too many times, he stopped altogether. He knew better, now.

It made her feel guilty to think it, but peacefulness had greatly changed the mood of her dojo. Conversation was strained at times, and with the collective group off in other places, so distant from where she was, the experiences of the past seemed little more than a dream to her. Of course Kenshin could never think that way - _ could he?_ - but he was still able to smile, and shrug, and brush aside his concerns so easily.

She felt guilty because she knew how much he loved peace. He thrived in the quiet of ritual, the gentle life of simply _ living_. He was at his best when he was in battle... but his heart was full and happy when the world around him was safe.

Of course, there was the issue of his tendency to mope. It was his job to do chores around the house, from laundry to simple dusting, and she had to admit he was immensely good at keeping their home in perfect working order. On days when she was working at other dojos around town, or training her own students, he kept himself busy with cooking, cleaning, or taking care of Kenji.

However, when she chose to work instead, ordering him to sit and do nothing for a change, she found that he grew restless and - yes, it was true - terribly bored. She often caught him sneaking off to help her in some way, such as refilling the water bucket in the kitchen, or dumping the dirty cleaning water, even tidying up the spare rooms of the house. He would smile when she scolded him, looking guilty but not the least bit sorry for it, insisting that she didn't have to do _everything_, and he ought to be helping instead of just sitting around. She countered by stating that he usually did everything anyway, not wanting to recognize that he worked when _ she_ did, and that he merely wanted the workload to be fair and evenly divided between them.

But he was always driving himself, it seemed; he thrust his heart into each and every household duty and never stopped. He _ needed_ to keep himself busy, for reasons she just couldn't understand. Eventually, she just stopped arguing with him, overlooking his attempted aid with a sigh and a shake of her head.

Later she realized that this dismissal wasn't only because Kenshin insisted upon doing the household chores no matter what she said; it was because she wanted him to, unspoken and secretly. She hated to see him when he was doing nothing at all - simply sitting and brooding, bored out of his mind and wishing he could find a way to escape his own company. She could only imagine what sort of thoughts ran through his head.

Sometimes she was able to get him to rest, forcing him with sharp words and - if she _had_ to - a sleeping child in his arms to sit down and stay still. When he reluctantly agreed, he would sit on the porch - Kenji cuddled in his lap - and watch her, smiling wearily, as if he knew he was enjoying himself yet was unable to truly acknowledge the fact.

On one such day, Kaoru was sweeping the dojo walkway while he leaned against the engawa post, relaxing in the midday sun. He was reading the day's newspaper, which she had told him to purchase on his usual trip for tofu. Occasionally he would comment on the day-by-day occurrences of Tokyo, attempting to make the dull quiet of the dojo a little less oppressive, and she would smile and nod, glancing over to peek at his expression before turning back to her chore and falling silent once again. Nearby, Yahiko swung a bokken with practiced ease, chanting the number of his strokes as Kenji mimicked the motion at his feet, struggling to repeat his words.

After a particularly long bout of silence, Kaoru glanced over to find her husband's expression clouded in concern, an intense frown pursing his lips.

"Kenshin?" she called, and he started, an apologetic smile already on his face. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing to worry about," he replied, waving a hand vaguely to the paper in his hands. "Just an article that surprised me. Things have been so peaceful lately..."

She pressed one hand against her hip, slightly impatient. "What is it?"

His smile faltered a little. "This article... it says a man was killed last night, in his home. It seems his wife attacked him, and the wounds he received were fatal. I just found it odd-"

"Why's that?" Kaoru raised an eyebrow, her brow furrowed. "Did it say why she attacked him?"

"Oro? Well, no, it-"

"I'll bet he was a terrible husband!" she decided, nodding to herself. "He was probably a violent, rude, oppressive man. And he threatened the children, too."

He watched her curiously, his eyes jaded in the shadows of late afternoon. "What makes you say that?"

"No respectable woman would attack her husband under normal circumstances," she told him confidently, continuing on with her work. "I'm just sorry she felt she had to kill him. What sort of life has she made for herself, now?"

Kenshin shrugged, glancing back at the article for a moment. "It's never the right answer," he murmured, his gaze flickering towards Yahiko and Kenji, who were watching him in silence.

"Eh?"

He shook his head and stood, folding the paper neatly and leaving it on the porch. "I think I'll go prepare dinner for us."

Kaoru tapped the broom against the ground, her eyes narrowing. "Wait just a minute, Kenshin! It's my turn to cook."

Yahiko grinned mischievously. "You hear that, Kenji?" He knelt beside the little boy, ruffling his hair. "Your mom's trying to get herself in the paper!"

The reference, while lost on Kenji, did not pass Kaoru's notice.

"_Yahiko_!"

Kenshin hastily took Kenji by the hand and led him inside, as Kaoru chased her laughing pupil around the dojo property. The sounds of their antics echoed through the house as Kenshin began his work, Kenji at his heels clutching his hakama.

Dinner that night was, as usual, an adventure.

~*~  
  
*falls over* I feel a little better about this chapter. The others were... oi. Never mind. I just needed to get back in the mood, I think. Slowly but surely... anyway...  
  
The original title for this chapter was "Stove". I didn't feel like doing another full cooking chapter, so I voted for being a little more original. I think it turned out all right.

_Reviewer Responses_:

**Calger459**: *nods* I'm definitely going to do major revisions to the recent chapters, once the muse decides to cooperate and I actually start thinking about it again. Right now, that's as far as the ideas will go. *sigh* Good point, I'd like to fiddle with the sort of things Kenshin and Kaoru would chat about... that would be kind of interesting, wouldn't it...  
  
**Michiru Kashyuuno**: And I feel coached. We're even. ^_~  
  
**Ela**: Maybe they're especially whimsical. :P  
  
**Iram**: Yeeeesss.... I see revision in the future... it's all so clear, now... I'll keep that in mind. Demented = good... hm...  
  
**April-san**: Well, I may expand further on a lot of things in Shukuchi, and I'll definitely post if I do. (PS: I missed you! :P)  
  
**supernaturalove**: Just don't forget, I didn't write those statements. I wish I did... but that's directly quoted from the novel. However, I thought it fit really beautifully, ^_^ Good idea actually, about the fight... I'm always guilty of making my characters too perfect, so I need to be more careful with that. Don't ever stop making requests though, because you have some really awesome ideas! .... there's a director's cut for Seisouhen, too?! O_O Well, mayhaps that will have to wait a while. I vaguely know the process of Japanese traditional marriage, but I'd really like to see that scene... where did you see the director's cut?

More coming soon!


	72. Chapter 72 Ojiisan

Disclaimer: Not mine! *huff*

~*~

Kendo no Go  
In The Language of Kendo  
A Fanfic in 100 Chapters  
Akai Kitsune  
~*~  
72) Ojiisan  
~*~

Kenshin was older than he looked.

It amused him, sometimes, to tell people his true age, to watch the eyes widen in surprise and disbelief. It seemed uncanny to them that someone so... so _old_ would look so young.

What was so wrong with being twenty-nine?

He felt older, sometimes. He felt an ache in his bones and in his heart, the familiar shivering that told him he knew too much, had already seen far too much of the world for someone who looked like a teenager.

The things he had learned as a teenager...

Whenever Yahiko went through a phase of wanting to grow up faster, Kenshin felt an urge to take the boy aside and give him several good reasons why he should remain a child. The likelihood of Yahiko actually following this direction was, of course, slim, but it would make Kenshin feel better, wouldn't it?

But he knew it was foolish to try and make the boy slow his pace. He himself had been a teenager once upon a time, after all. He knew those feelings of inadequacy, especially when compared with one so much stronger and more mature.

_ 'Well,' _he corrected grimly, thinking of his own master's playful insults, _'Stronger, anyway.'_

He hoped, desperately, that Yahiko would never understand why he thought growing up was not always a good thing.

He didn't like to admit it, but Kenji was growing at a startling rate, and he wasn't sure if he liked that idea. Kenji was at that strange, open-hearted age where he loved and forgave everything, from stinging bees to scolding mothers. He hugged, clung to, and cried over almost all that existed in his small, childlike world. It was both amusing and enduring to his quiet, more carefully guarded father.

"He could teach you a few things," Kaoru mused once, and he had puzzled over her statement for a long time. He _should_ have known, really; Kaoru never gave such odd remarks without good reason, much like himself in some ways.

_ 'I hope I'm not rubbing off on her,'_ he thought grimly.

She was too young for him, he knew. Not physically - in the day and age they lived in, age was not a great issue - but rather in heart and mind. She was far more innocent than he, still able to see injustice in the world and wonder how such things could happen, how people could still hurt each other again and again.

He had resigned himself to accepting such inevitable sorrows long ago.

Kenshin envied them a great deal, his family. He watched Kaoru and Kenji - even Yahiko, dark-eyed boy as he was sometimes - pass through the world with pure, untarnished souls, arms wide and welcoming to anyone who came calling. Once Kenji overcame that silly, unusual shyness, that is. He loved to see them revel in the joys of life, bask in the beauty of nature, smile in blissful ignorance at the inherent evils of mankind.

_ 'I wish... I wish I could learn to think like that.'_

But joy and innocence had not kept him alive during the revolution; it had not protected him during his wandering years; it did not spare him or any of his friends from death in all the battles he had experienced since his arrival in Tokyo.

_ 'It helped, though,'_ he was forced to admit, half reluctant, half grateful. _'It helped.'_

_ "Let's go have sukiyaki!"_

_ "You're just getting beat up! That's not like you!"_

_ "What's mine is mine. What's yours is also mine."_

_ "I thought I'd come over and play."_

It made him feel old, watching them... but in a way, it brought him back to life, the life he would have liked to lead.

_ 'Maybe someday... things will settle down enough that I won't need these moods, this knowledge I have gained in time. Someday, I'd like to watch them without feeling the familiar ache of envy, the listless stirring of isolation.'_

_ '... someday...'_

~*~  
  
Wow, this took me longer than I thought it would, O_o Oh well. All in good fun, ne? And I'm working hard... er, as hard as one might work during summer holidays, ^_^

Kenshin sure ends his thoughts with a lot of "somedays", doesn't he. Too many plans for the future, I guess. (Or the author needing a nap really, really bad...)  
  
The original title of this chapter was "Long". It was supposed to be a parallel of "Short" but no ideas were coming, so I went with what came to mind. I seem to be doing that a lot lately. (Although, doesn't everybody?)  
  
I suppose I'm making fun of Kenshin by titling it "Ojiisan" (Japanese for "old man") but I'm sure you all get my meaning. heh. Poor Kenshin...  
  
Quotes come from maigo-chan's Ruroken translations.

_Reviewer Responses_:

**supernaturalove**: Well, since this fic has been devoted _mostly_ to Kaoru, I've delved more with what she feels and what she sees. If she sees Kenshin in perfect bliss, then that's what is written. However, I suppose I should write a bit about what Kenshin feels. (hence this chapter) That Seisouhen DC would be tempting, maybe if I lived in the US or had that kind of money right now, O_o  
  
**Iram**: LOL, good call. Kind of like visualizing Saitou with the reincarnation of Bhudda, ^_^ I try to make Kaoru as human as, er, humanly possible, and I'm glad I have so many people willing to tell me when I go to far.  
  
**April-san:** Well, I figured it was time for Yahiko to have a moment of familiar obnoxiousness, ^_^  
  
**DragonJivi**: Yeah, that's the problem with this fic... by the time people read the latest chapter, it's usually updated again, O_o  
  
**Calger459**: Well, I suppose Kaoru meant attacking with the serious intention to injure him... she doesn't do _that..._ much, ^_~ But I see what you mean. By the way, I finally got around to buying the ova Director's cut... I was so disappointed, though. -_- I guess it can't please everyone.

More coming soon!


	73. Chapter 73 Trust

Disclaimer: Not mine! *huff*

~*~

Kendo no Go  
In The Language of Kendo  
A Fanfic in 100 Chapters  
Akai Kitsune  
~*~  
73) Trust  
~*~

Since the creation of his growing circle of friends, Kenshin had developed a deeply-knit respect between himself and Sanosuke. They were so different from one another at first glance, physically and mentally, but there was a mutual strength that they both shared, allowing them to form an unusual friendship stronger than most. Neither required a great amount of speech or acknowledgment of the fact; it was based almost completely on the actions of one for the other.

However, immediately after the Kurogasa incident, Kenshin found it difficult to rely completely on Sano. The street fighter was loyal, strong, and a match for his own intensity at any time - but the trust they shared, new and still forming, had been temporarily broken.

_ "Sano, I have a favour to ask of you..."_

It was the fault of neither, really, and Kenshin couldn't bring himself to be angry when it was Kaoru's own persistence and stubbornness that made her easy prey for the assassin, but he couldn't help but wonder why Sano had so easily given in. Whatever Kaoru had said, or done, that would make Sanosuke bend to her will and let her place herself in danger...

_ "... protect her..."_

Eventually, he realized that Sano's lack of interference had stemmed from his understanding of what Kenshin had needed in his life, more perhaps than even _he_ knew at the time. He had resigned himself to leave them someday - he always did, no matter who he met or how long he stayed - knowing that the wolves of his past would always remain at his heels, the ghost of his name a constant whisper in the wind. He knew that his life was never meant to be stationary, never meant to contain rituals or schedules. He had always known that. She _should_ have known that.

_ "A wanderer never knows where or when he'll be going next..."_

_ "... if that doesn't bother you..."_

_ "I'll stay here for a little while."_

Apparently it _had_ bothered her, quite a bit. And, really, he hadn't known that "a little while" meant the rest of his life.

Sano had known, it seemed. And when Kenshin had tried to remedy that, the street fighter had been sure to remind him, with a fist in the jaw and the fierce words of rebuke that were so familiar. None of his friends allowed him to do what he thought was best, although he later had to admit how grateful he was that they did. His soul had always been drawn to wandering, and it wasn't until he met these stubborn, lighthearted people that he realized how lonely a life it had been.

He didn't easily admit it, but Kenshin was a pessimist. Kaoru and Sanosuke both berated him for that, annoyed by the way he was on constant watch for the shadows. He smiled easily enough, but it was the fake, uneasy smile of a man who knew what sort of darkness lurked beneath any form of happiness.

They hated it, he knew.

_ "Make today your last day for gloomy thoughts."_

_ "Kenshin! You've got to stop brooding, or you'll never be happy!"_

_ "You get any darker, you'll turn into Aoshi!"_

He knew his friends were merely trying to help him, to improve his mood and make him smile, but sometimes he didn't know how to respond to their comments. _Don't be gloomy, don't think so much, don't read into things so easily._

_Don't be the man you've always been._

He tried to hide his nature from them when he could, with a smile and a wave of dismissal that usually made them more suspicious, but far too often they could see right through his facade. It frustrated them, as much as it did him.

_Don't hide things from us, Kenshin._

_ 'What am I to tell them? That years as a hitokiri have taught me simply to be careful with who I trust? To watch my own back and the backs of my friends, so none of us will have to suffer the mistakes I suffered during the Bakumatsu?'_

_ 'That I wait in quiet dread for the next form of death to leap from the shadows in the hopes of destroying me?'_

_ 'Am I to tell them that I am resigned to that fate, now and always, yet am still unwilling to let them become involved if I, alone, can keep them safe?'_

_ 'The world is untrustworthy. It's not innocent; it's not safe. But if they wish to continue thinking it is... if they wish to believe the war is over...'_

_ 'Then let me brood. Let me dwell on things of the past.'_

_ 'It will save lives, won't it?'_

_ 'I can protect them this way.'_

_ 'And I will protect them...'_

~*~

There, I did an "annoying-trait-of-Kenshin's" chapter. Yay for me. ^_^ This was fun, actually. Kenshin _is_ a terrible pessimist, and somebody needs to give him a good smack... even if he is right most of the time, -_-;;  
  
The original title was "Religion", but since I already covered that in "Shinto", I went for a different idea. The first two sections were actually written about three weeks ago, which is why this came so quickly. I wasn't sure where to use it, but when I reached this chapter, it fit right in, ^_^ Funny how things work out sometimes.  
  
Quotes were taken from maigo-chan's Ruroken translations. Actually, one of them I made up, just because I can. ^_^

_Reviewer Responses_:

**Michiru Kashyuuno**: You know Kaoru. The whole "plank in thine own eye" doesn't apply, :P

**supernaturalove**: Well, it seems that the little things are always overlooked, ne? People like to apply storylines to the obvious issues, but that's what I love about writing this fic. It's a challenge from a new perspective, ^_^ I don't want to stop...

**Rachel Wes**: I like to give attention to the little details, as said above, and even though it's hard, I learn a lot about the characters when I write this. Interesting...

More coming soon!


	74. Chapter 74 Sake

Disclaimer: Not mine! *huff*

~*~

Kendo no Go  
In The Language of Kendo  
A Fanfic in 100 Chapters  
Akai Kitsune  
~*~  
74) Sake  
~*~

Sake was an acquired taste. Kenshin could remember the first time he sat down and had a drink of it, coaxed - somehow - into a group gathering by Iizuka and a few of his friends. They had welcomed the young hitokiri with grins and mild teasing, not knowing who he was, but always happy to share their amusements with those who were willing. Kenshin was only _half_-willing, but by Iizuka's wanton smile, and the way his arm snaked over the uneasy teenager's shoulders in the manner of a good companion, he was drawn into the group, all too eager to escape his own dark company.

He recalled the hesitation he initially experienced as a man offered him a cup, pouring the warm liquid for him and encouraging him to sip. He had killed his first man only a few days before, and the fear - the loathing - was still close to his heart.

_ "If sake tastes bad..."_

He held the cup against his lips, pursing them in silent distress.

_ "That's proof that there's something sick inside of you."_

"Go on, kid," Iizuka smirked, patting his back encouragingly. "Haven't you ever had it before?"

Unwilling to answer truthfully, to avoid being the subject of yet another joke, Kenshin closed his eyes and drank.

It burned, a little, and he was unused to the sensation he felt as the strange taste coursed through his mouth and down his throat, but it wasn't bad. Not bad at all.

It seemed to wash away the taste of blood he had felt on his tongue since that man died at his hands.

"Oi, Himura, you all right?"

"I'm fine," he murmured in response, feeling a smile spread across his face for the first time in days. "I'll be fine."

"More?"

"Aa."

He drank a lot in those days, before he left for his assignments. At first it was a secret pleasure, carefully guarded to avoid becoming too unstable to accomplish his duty - not that he was an easy drunk, he realized quickly - but as time passed, and Hitokiri Battousai's kills grew in number, it became something more.

"If sake tastes bad..."

At first it was a balm against the pain, a soothing herb to fight the grating blood that covered his throat every time a black envelope was delivered into his hands, but soon, it became a desperate attempt at escaping who he feared he was becoming.

The sake no longer cleared the blood from his tongue. It became, instead, a thick, cruel paint to further coat the taste on his lips, like a sticky tar that could not be removed.

And Iizuka wondered why he refused to go drinking.

He could not bear the looks any longer, the stares and whispered of the men around him, not quite knowing who he was but fearing him for the dark glimmering in his eyes, the amber ice which flared into a golden fire if his mission or his master were threatened.

He drank alone, gazing into the pale liquid that seemed so pure, so clean, but tasted only of blood and death.

The first time Sanosuke asked him to go out drinking, Kenshin almost said no. He did, at first, thinking that Kaoru would worry as she always did, and that neither of them had enough money to go bar-hopping anyway. But Sano could not be deterred - never had been, really - and so Kenshin relented, stating they would _not_ be gone long, and he would _not_ order any more than he could pay for, and if Sano expected _him_ to pay for any extra drinks when he was drunk and incoherent, he had another thing coming.

Sano laughed. Sano said he could deal with that.

And so they left the dojo, Sano in good spirits, and Kenshin _trying_ to be, trying as best as he could to smile and laugh and shrug aside the thoughts of silent dread stirring within him.

After Tomoe's death, he had not been able to taste sake without feeling the sharp dagger of guilt and memory, recalling the times when the two of them had shared a bottle together, each of them surprised by the delightful taste it suddenly carried.

After the revolution, he had avoided the drink entirely, for reasons other than his new and unfortunate lack of funds.

Sometimes Kenshin felt guilty about the drinking sorties he attended with his comrades, recalling his master's words to him so long ago.

_ "When you understand how to taste it, we will enjoy it together."_

He would have liked to share a drink with the man who taught him everything, to revel in the strange, silent companionship they formed, together with the moon. He wondered what kind of sake Hiko liked - cold, hot, dry, strong. He wished he could someday go back and apologize, maybe even thank him for all he'd done, and then the two of them could sit down and relax, enveloped in the glow of the stars and the warmth of the drink in their bodies.

His master had always made a strong impression on him, in whatever he did.

_ "If sake tastes bad..."_

He dreaded the cup that rested between his fingers, the clear liquid glaring back at him, awaiting its consumption. He could almost see the blood slowly tainting the purity of the alcohol, obscuring its cleansing factor, transforming it into the familiar crimson paint.

Beside him, Sanosuke muttered something to the bartender, and they both fell into easy, comfortable laughter. Sano's palm slammed into Kenshin's back, and he pitched forward, instinctively drawing the cup to his lips before he could _wear_ it.

The cold, familiar taste coursed down his throat like ice-fire, leaving a trail of dry embers on his tongue.

_Sake_. Only sake. He could taste no blood in the drink.

"Hey, sorry 'bout that, Ken," Sano grinned, ignoring - or not noticing, in his already inebriated state - his friend's twitch at the shortened name. "Want another?"

Kenshin looked down at the empty cup in his hand, tracing fingers briefly across his neck, still feeling the warm, sweet sensation.

"Yes," he replied, offering the clay cup with a smile. "Yes, I would."

~*~  
  
I was going to extend this chapter even further, having Kenshin, Kaoru, and Kenji visit Hiko so master and student could share a drink... but then I remembered that Tae-san has already written a similar scene, and a beautiful one at that. As such, I realized I couldn't do anything that could match, compare, or be original when placed next to her lovely story. So I left it; I hope nobody minds.  
  
The original chapter title was "Whisky". It was fairly easy to make the connection; not so easy to write it. But I realized how much nicer it is to write the original with pencil - the ideas flow much more easily that way.

_Reviewer Responses:_

**Maeve Riannon**: Well, I suppose this fic made me a lot better at portraying Kaoru, something that came gradually, ^_^

More coming soon!


	75. Chapter 75 Kodomo

Disclaimer: Not mine! *huff*

~*~

Kendo no Go  
In The Language of Kendo  
A Fanfic in 100 Chapters  
Akai Kitsune  
~*~  
75) Kodomo  
~*~

child **kodomo** _n._ **1**. a baby; infant. **2**. a fetus. 3. a boy or girl before puberty. ** 4**. an offspring; son or daughter. **5**. a descendant. **6**. a person like a child in character, manners, interests, etc.; a person regarded as immature.

The first time Kenshin ever saw his son, he broke down into tears.

It was a silent, unspoken display, misunderstood by most. He was so overwhelmed, so incredibly _happy_, that his body seemed to respond automatically, forcing him to give the child a reaction both rare and unusual from him.

At Kenji's initial entrance to the world, the two of them cried together.

Yahiko was confused by it, he knew. He was supposed to be the strongest swordsman, who could be firm and calm, harsh and gentle, smiling and dark-eyed, shifting so easily from one to another

He had never, in all their time together, seen Kenshin cry.

Two weeks after Kenji's birth, Yahiko made his daily visit from his home in Sano's old longhouse to the Kamiya dojo, only to find Kenshin relaxing on the porch. Kenji was swaddled in a deep magenta blanket and cuddled against his father's stomach. Yahiko approached, cautious of waking either - Kenshin's eyes were closed - but as he drew near, the former rurouni smiled.

"Ohayo," he greeted, opening his eyes to welcome the young dojo apprentice.

Yahiko nodded, a little uneasy, and mumbled a response.

"It's going to be a hot day today," Kenshin continued, undeterred by the boy's quiet attitude.

"A-aa."

Kenshin stretched, careful not to wake the child in his lap, and brushed his hand against the porch space beside him, the action and the glimmer in his eyes acting as silent invitations. Yahiko hesitated a moment longer, then propped his shinai beside the post, crouching down at Kenshin's side.

They sat in silence for a long time, both watching the newborn as he dozed in the early spring light.

"Hey, Kenshin?"

Kenshin's gaze flickered towards the young man at his side, a soft smile on his face. "Yes?"

Yahiko's expression was terribly serious, his lips pursed tightly, eyebrows knit together. "... never mind."

The smile faded, and Kenshin's eyes turned back to his child for a moment before shifting to the sky, bright and empty of storm clouds. "You're wondering why I cried," he murmured, not really _asking_ the question. Yahiko didn't answer.

Kenshin's hands moved to his son's side, as the child reached out in his sleep and curled his fist around a proffered finger.

"I cried," Kenshin finally continued, his voice tender, "Because this child is the most wonderful thing ever to happen to me... and also the most frightening. I cried because I do not know what to do, but will never regret that this has happened."

Yahiko blinked, surprised, yet knowing he should have expected such an answer. His eyes, still on Kenji, were almost curious.

"So, he asked haltingly, "I guess you're happy to have a son."

He was a samurai. He knew the importance of a male heir, to carry on the family name and traditions.

It was Kenshin's turn to be surprised, and he smiled as Kenji stirred. "I'm happy to have a _child_, regardless," he corrected gently, "But yes, I'm very happy."

"But... still scared?" Yahiko added, gazing up at the older man.

Kenshin nodded. "Scared of him getting into trouble, or being hurt because of my past... scared of being a bad teacher for him."

"That's impossible," Yahiko let a grin touch his nervous look.

Kenshin didn't respond; he merely stared at his son with eyes full of adoration and lingering fear.

"You'll help me, won't you?" he finally whispered.

Yahiko's expression melted, and he scuffed a hand through the scrap of auburn hair atop Kenji's head.

"We all will," the boy promised, his voice rich with confidence and assurance. Kenji stirred again, his eyes creeping open, blinking navy eyes at his father.

And Kenshin smiled. "Ohayo," he said simply.

So it begins again.

~*~

This chapter is dedicated to, was inspired by, and written completely for Calger-san and the beautiful picture she sent to me a few days ago. You can view it here:  
  
http:// www. freewebs. com/ akaikitsune/ cutekenjism.jpg  
(copy-paste into the address bar and remove the spaces)  
  
Thanks again to Calger-san for sending me such an awesome pic; it helped me a great deal in writing this chapter! (In fact I had no ideas whatsoever before I found it in my inbox, ^_^;;)  
  
The original title (also translation of "Kodomo") was "Child". I'm 3/4 of the way done!  
  
I also have an announcement, one I've already posted with my other multi-chapter fics, but for those of you who don't know... I go away to the cottage every summer. There's a laptop, but no internet access. That means Kendo no Go won't be updated until after I return. Sorry about the delay, but I can't help it, ^_^  
  
This will probably be the last chapter till then. See you all in September, and please be patient with me!

More coming soon!


	76. Chapter 76 Mask

Disclaimer: Not mine! *huff*

~*~

Kendo no Go  
In The Language of Kendo  
A Fanfic in 100 Chapters  
Akai Kitsune  
~*~  
76) Mask  
~*~

Kaoru, taking into account his past, wondered why Kenshin wasn't particularly bitter about his experiences. He certainly had his share of regrets, but it was nothing further than an extensive case of self-loathing - something she was working on. But his lack of anger surprised her from the very beginning.

_ 'Men like that are usually so grim, aren't they?'_ she thought to herself, watching him work around the dojo. _ 'They sit and brood and curse their fates, fantasizing a time when they were free to fight and kill as they pleased.'_

_ 'Aren't they?'_

She failed to acknowledge the fact that she had never really met or known a man like Kenshin before. However, the memory of their first meeting came all too easily to her mind; she always recalled his first word to her.

_ "Oro!"_

_ 'It's so silly,'_ she mused, fondly reviving the sight of his tumble into the worn-down merchant's shed, shattering both the storage box and his Battousai image with one misplaced foot.

He seemed so cheerful, a never-ending mask of happiness and, of course, ignorant bliss.

_ 'But that's exactly what it is... just a mask.'_

She puzzled over this for ages, agonizing over the thought - almost a betrayal - that the sweet, perfect rurouni was not his true personality.

There were plenty of situations which proved it to her; the battles with Jin'ei, Saitou, and, to an extent, Shishio all showed clearly that there was a darker half lurking beneath the guileless violet eyes. Another person entirely from the man she thought she knew.

Each of them viewed this person much differently. Kenshin thought of Battousai as a monster, Kaoru considered him a mystery, Sano assumed he was a ghost of Kenshin's past, and Yahiko saw him as simply a manifestation of the wanderer's repressed temper.

Which of them, in the end, was the wisest?

After Kenshin learned the ougi, mastering his sword style and succeeding his shishou, Kaoru noticed a new change in him, something she had never seen before. His confidence of self seemed to have increased a great deal, and, while still fairly restrained, he was no longer so carefully guarded around his friends. He would share - to an extent and a limit which he followed almost religiously - his knowledge, his power, his authority, and of course his boundless compassion. He changed so much that she wondered if this newer, stronger Kenshin was yet another mask, another guise to conceal the true soul of the man known as Himura Kenshin.

Eventually Kaoru realized - though she wasn't sure precisely when - that his masks were not _just_ masks; as if anything connected to Kenshin could be so simple. They were, instead of covers to hide his true self, merely appearances of what _was_ his true self. They were shards of his hidden soul, revealed in very different, yet still appropriate situations, in order to protect him from the world that wished to bring him harm.

From the wide-eyed "oro" to the gleaming amber death, the soul of Himura Kenshin was always revealed - and carefully obscured, still - in his eyes.

~*~

I'm so glad to be home! ^_______^ Did y'all miss me? Ne? Ne?  
  
These are actually my views, for the most part; so many fics portray Battousai as another person, entirely separate from Kenshin. While the manslayer is immensely different from the man who we all see Kenshin as, he's still part of Kenshin, so he _had_ to come from somewhere. Deep down he still has the same heart, and is obviously capable of the same emotions. But he does have different ways of showing them.  
  
The original title is "Bitter". I was originally going to call this one "Nigai" (Japanese for bitter) but then I realized that chapter 43 already has Bitter as the title... O_o I suppose I was tired.

And now, a very important message to my new friend cho: While I thank you graciously for your (however LOUD) opinions, I'd enjoy your comments a little more if you didn't use my review space to scream and rant about things you hate. I doubt for a moment you bothered to read the fic, so I don't know why I'm placing this on the next update, but damn. I felt like pissing someone off, because your lovely message made me want to. Perhaps an inclusion of a vocabulary with more than one word would improve your less-than-gentle ravings, and make it seem less like you're obsessed with sexual intercourse. On another note, congratulations for becoming my first shameless spam message. I was thrilled. ((Waste my review space again and I'll go Jinchuu on your ass.))  
  
In fact, I encourage everyone to read cho's lovely review and send him/her your opinions, just as he/she asked. Right here: hancookmansue@yahoo.com. I'm sure he/she would be happy to hear from you.  
  
Now I shall move on to those reviews I deem as actually *important*.

_Review Responses_:

**Maeve Riannon**: Well don't I feel special now, ^_^ I think the whole sake thing was mostly for symbolism...  
  
**Iram**: Hm. Good call... I never really thought about that much... Yes, the cottage is amazing for inspiration (ie. the last time I was there I wound up writing 10 chapters in two days... thank god for vacation, ^_^) but I suppose it all depends on the mood.  
  
**supernaturalove**: Thank you. It was pretty relaxing, I think, ^_^  
  
**Ela**: I want a Kenji too, so long as he's not bratty. *cuddles Calger-san's picture*  
  
**DragonJivi**: The writing style is based a LOT off of Guy Gavriel Kay's novels. If you like my style, you'll love his writing. Such a beautiful flow. *happy sigh*  
  
**Psychotic Tanuki**: I'm honoured you feel that the fic was worth your loss of sleep, ^_^ I hope to keep up the pace now that I'm home.  
  
**Tatsutahime**: I had to copy-paste your nickname because I was terrified of misspelling it. I hate it when I do that. ^_^ I try to keep things realistic, even though sometimes it causes problems...

More coming soon!


	77. Chapter 77 Headache

Disclaimer: Not mine! *huff*

~*~

Kendo no Go  
In The Language of Kendo  
A Fanfic in 100 Chapters  
Akai Kitsune  
~*~  
77) Headache  
~*~

Kaoru seemed to have a perpetual headache, sometimes.

She would lie awake on her futon, all morning, all day, depending on the severity of the dull pain in her head, listening to the domestic noises around her. There was Kenshin, bustling about quietly in the kitchen, his feet near-silent pads across the floor like those of a cat. Kenji was at his side, helping, or trying to, constantly asking questions, often calling for _kaasan_ until he was hushed by Kenshin's gentle intones. Yahiko was outside, shouting for her, followed by the group of young students who had drifted to the dojo in the past year or so, until they discovered her condition. Then her first apprentice would burst into complaints about having to practice alone because the "old hag" was sick.

_ 'Kids,' _she thought crossly, crumpling a blanket and stuffing it over her ears, _'Why on earth to we have all these kids?!'_

It was, surely, a thought which crossed the mind of a mother at least once in a lifetime.

Wasn't it?

Of course not _all_ the children were hers - she was fully responsible for only one, now that Yahiko was old enough to care for himself - but sometimes they made her so weary of everything.

The pounding in her head certainly didn't help in the slightest.

Kenshin never seemed to get sick. He was always to healthy, so infuriatingly perfect, dashing around, keeping _her_ house in working order while she lay in bed hearing nothing but the hammering in her skull.

Of course he _did_ get sick, sometimes, but he hid it from her every time, waving it aside, ignoring his own limits - unless Kenji was threatened, in which case he shut himself away until the illness passed. But he never stopped working, never stopped moving. Kaoru envied that.

At times she wished she could be like Kenshin. Kenshin, who never got sick or had headaches, who never lay awake on the futon with the blankets pressed against his aching ears, who only bled, bled across the ground just like her heart bled for him, to him, from him.

_ 'I wish...'_

~*~

The end is a little sporadic, but this is mostly intentional. When can you ever think straight with a headache? ^_^;;  
  
The original title of this chapter was "Hammer".

_Reviewer Responses:_

**Psychotic Tanuki**: Well, everyone has different ways of expressing things, I guess...  
  
**Red Ninja**: Everyone's coming back from holidays, it seems. I'm glad to get back in the flow of things, anyway, ^_^  
  
**April-san**: Long time no see! *waits impatiently for some fics to read*  
  
**ShiisaiLammy**: I really don't know what I'd do without Calger-san... she seems to unwittingly inspire a lot of these chapters. Such as 75, of course...  
  
**Maeve Riannon**: I'm glad you think so. Sometimes things just need a little clarification, or at least a confirmation that someone else thinks the same way, ^_^  
  
**Iram**: Sure, I'd be happy to take a peek at your fics; just keep reminding me, because I'm *very* forgetful... and you're right, there are an awful lot of "Battousai-is-nuts" fics out there... I wish they'd animate Jinchuu and show everyone how sweet Battousai can really be.  
  
**WingStar5**: *is getting sore from all the glomping* Well, I said I wouldn't be back until September... *falls over* Itai... glomp... too much... ack...  
  
**animefanrk2k**: I only said to send cho a message because he/she asked for it, ^_^;; But arguing with those sorts of people is generally like talking to a brick wall or worse...

More coming soon!


	78. Chapter 78 Water

Disclaimer: Not mine! *huff*

~*~

Kendo no Go  
In The Language of Kendo  
A Fanfic in 100 Chapters  
Akai Kitsune  
~*~  
78) Water  
~*~

_The water is red._  
  
Kenshin plunged his hands into the laundry tub, scrubbing each article of clothing with firm care, smiling softly in the morning light. Already several kimonos hung on the bamboo rack in front of him, and a small pile of unwashed clothes lay at his feet. He finished the yukata in his hands and placed it on the rack, absently flicking water from his hands before returning to the bucket. His smile never faltered.

Kaoru watched him silently from the doorway of the house.

Again he scrubbed at the smooth, soggy material, soaking it with water and mixed soap, his hands brushing together between the wet cotton. Nearby, Kenji chased a butterfly in the garden, giggling each time the fluttering creature evaded his touch.

Another yukata. Scrub, scrub, rinse, hang. Smile.

"Kenshin," Kaoru said quietly, approaching him, "I'll finish those for you, if you like. I'm not expecting the students for another hour or so."

He turned to her, his face bright. "It's all right, Kaoru. I'm nearly done."

She looked uncomfortable. "But-"

"And as soon as I'm done," he interrupted gently, "I'll get started on lunch. How does that sound?"

Kaoru frowned, her lips pursed, yet finding no further argument. "I suppose that's fine..."

He smiled again, returning to his work without hesitation. He shoved his hands deep into the clean, clear liquid, which was thick, so thick with suds and clothes and _blood_.

_The water is red._

She watched him, but he continued to work, blissfully smiling as he did so.  
  
~*~  
  
Whether the water was really bloody, or it was the illusory vision of Kenshin and/or Kaoru, I leave it up to you and your imagination, ^_^  
  
The original title was "Thirsty". Sorry it was so short, but that was (at least in part) intentional.

More coming soon!


	79. Chapter 79 Mura

Disclaimer: Not mine! *huff*

~*~

Kendo no Go  
In The Language of Kendo  
A Fanfic in 100 Chapters  
Akai Kitsune  
~*~  
79) Mura  
~*~

Kenshin spent nearly five full years of his life in the city of Kyoto, and decided that his job, while unpleasant, had nothing to do with his dislike for them.

Well, perhaps it contributed a _little_.

He felt compressed, trapped in large cities, being far more comfortable in the isolation he had grown up with in the village of his birth and his master's mountain. The labyrinth of collective buildings and the people within them left him lost and confused.

He adapted, of course - there was very little he could not get used to over time - but his first few days in the vast metropolis set his head spinning and his comrades laughing at his expense.

If pressed, he would be forced to admit that he favored the open countryside, empty and free of the confined quarters a city presented to him. To walk upon a lone, unrestricted road, without walls or boundaries, was far preferable to his tastes.

Not to say he was picky; he often took whatever life brought him, resigned and uncomplaining.

As such, Kaoru's offer to let him remain at the dojo for as long as he pleased was a very great gift in his eyes.

The city of Tokyo was very different from the Kyoto he remembered of years ago. The bustling capital of new Japan was a thriving land, full of vitality and hope for the future. Everyone seemed to carry a bright smile on his or her face.

_'Except, perhaps,' _he corrected himself with a long sigh,_ 'The poor, the sick, and the criminally inclined.'_

Every city had its flaws; that much was undeniable. But there was something about Tokyo which drew him to it, like a wandering moth helpless against the hypnotic power of a flickering lantern.

Whether it was the wind, the snaking road before him, or his own unfettered soul, he was eternally grateful he made his way to the great city before an innocent girl could meet her death in _his_ name.

Whatever he had done to discard the title, Kenshin knew only he had the right to claim responsibility for the burden of the assassin's nickname. From the man committing murders in the streets of Tokyo he took it gladly, obliged to save the life of a dreamer who smiled at him despite knowing who he was.

His life in Tokyo was an adventure - far more enjoyable than the bloody town of Kyoto long-past - and, while he knew he would always prefer the freedom of the road to such a crowded place, he could also acknowledge how lonely that road had become, and that he would rather have the company of his friends than the silent companionship of the aimless wanderer's path he once followed.

~*~

Being a cottage girl myself (even though I live in a fairly large city) I can sympathize with Kenshin's preference. However, I also love what the city has to offer. I'm always torn between the two, though I have to admit the cottage is much better for the muse, ^_^  
  
The original title of this chapter was "City". The title used, "Mura, translates to "Village". As an afterthought, I didn't realize that it's also part of Kenshin's surname until later!

_Reviewer Responses:_

**Calger-san**: Calger-samaaaaaa-! *rushes over and glomps* I suppose I could have made that chapter huge, considering the topic... ^_^ But I guess the flow is also important. I'm not best at that... oh well.  
  
**Maeve Riannon**: Ooh, good point. I never thought of that... (of him actually choosing the job for that reason)  
  
**Lucrecia LeVrai**: Well, I'm a big fan of both the manga ending and Seisouhen, so I tried to make a balance... but I ended up being a little unfair, ^_^;; this will actually change how I continue the story in the sequel if I write it... I don't think you're strange for liking Seisouhen. It was beautifully done, and though I don't really agree with it, I can't help but love it, myself.  
  
**animefanrk2k**: Good point. Another thing for me to consider for later, ^_^  
  
**Iram**: LOL. Wow, this is great... more impact than I thought it would have on people, ^_^  
  
**ChiisaiLammy**: Let us mourn the loss of "Prism" together. ^_^  
  
**April-san**: I think I need to draw a picture of that. That would really be kinda creepy.

**Tatsutahime**: Coffee?! Forbidden! *runs off and drinks some more green tea*

More coming soon!


	80. Chapter 80 Prism

Disclaimer: Not mine! *huff*

~*~

Kendo no Go  
In The Language of Kendo  
A Fanfic in 100 Chapters  
Akai Kitsune  
~*~  
80) Prism  
~*~

There were, Kenshin realized one day, after a long bout of deep thought which was_ not_ brooding, whatever Kaoru might say, three very different yet equally important roles in the process of the Revolution. He wasn't quite sure how this revelation came to him, and could only say that it was true, in his perfectly honest opinion.

It was very much like the work of fine craftsmen, working with wood, slowly creating a piece of art through a process of many steps and different laborers, each with a single duty to perform before his job is finished.

It began with the designer, the man - or collective of men - who sought a beautiful vision of what something should be, using his own knowledge and the resources available to plan the entire project from beginning to end. Each step was carefully modeled, cleverly drawn out, and such ideals were passed on to the men who carry out his plans. Katsura-san was such a man, Kenshin thought to himself, remembering his employer's calm, collected expression, his soothing yet thoroughly convincing voice, who could lead armies of men with a mere beckoning of hand. He possessed a dead man's vision of a greater Japan, and he fought and strove to ensure that it happened, though the hands of those who worked beneath him.

Those men were the plain carpenters, Kenshin then imagined, men such as himself who were used as tools to take the given designs and instructions and transform it into a reality. The rough work often required that the old pieces be torn apart, in order to bring up the new, stronger and more beautiful work. There were many carpenters, he recalled, and most of them were expendable, no matter how strong or important they seemed to be.

The third and final part of the triumvirate was, of course, the finisher, who refined the rough projects of the carpenters and formed the final ideals, presenting to the world the end design when it is brought to life. Those men were the survivors, old designers who were less known, yet recognized for their ability to carry on despite their losses, for the sake of all they had gained and won. Kenshin thought of Okubo, Yamagata, and those government officials who were uncorrupted by greed and conceit.

He thought, he did _not_ brood, but for a long time his mind dwelled on these things, wondering if the process had, in the end, changed much of anything besides the names of the rulers of the country.

People did not change.

Once, in the market, Kaoru had shown him a puzzling Western invention - more art than any sort of consequential tool - something the shopkeeper called a prism. A glass object formed in the shape of a triangle, which could, when held in the proper light, could create a brilliant rainbow of coloured beams.

He still was uncertain of how it worked - something to do with sunlight, he was sure, but the vendor hadn't spoken the language well enough to explain properly - but the effect it had on his wife was no less strong, and he couldn't help but purchase the item for her. She smiled at him, delighted, yet not quite understanding the depth in which he held the strange invention.

On the way home, he considered how similar his previous thoughts of the revolution and the little prism were. Three sides, a triangle had, separate yet equal and eternally connected. The prism would not work without all the existing sides, and each side was useless without the contributions made from the others. It was odd, yet somehow fitting at the same time. The very speculation that such a simple thing could carry so much idealism made him smile.

He had forgotten, in his blissful new ponderings and theories of the past - ones he could think back upon without regret or misery - that the prism had a forth side, one which held the other three together. A base, in a sense, yet the final and ignored piece of that puzzling creation of man.

He had forgotten that there was a fourth role in the completion of the revolution, in the finalizing of the era in which all could live peacefully.

He thought of it late that night, lying on his back and staring at the shadowed ceiling, Kaoru dozing serenely beside him. The prism rested on the dresser across the room, and as his gaze drifted towards it, his eyes widened in realization.

In the work of exquisite craftsmanship, there was another duty to perform. There was the tinker, the tool smith, who followed after all the others to cleanse and mend the broken, discarded tools left behind, slowly piecing them together again with fine hands and a wise mind.

Kaoru was that sort of person, he then thought, brushing his fingers through her hair, allowing them to linger before he curled closer to her, his arms drawing around her waist. She had taken in a lost, homeless hitokiri, wandering aimlessly through the country he had helped form with his bloody sword, and transformed him into something new, something better. A tool for a much greater purpose: the purpose of creating a family.

_ 'And you did a good job, koishii,' _he thought with a musing smile, thinking of the toddler who slept peacefully in the next room, and of Yahiko, Sano, and Megumi, who were farther away but not far enough to forget. _'You held us close even as we tried to leave you, never giving up, never surrendering to what we thought we wanted.'_

_ 'A great craftsman, my Kaoru.'_  
  
~*~

Calger-san yet again appearing here... you really are amazing for inspiration, ^_^  
  
The fanfic _Prism_ brought to life this chapter (obviously) and I'd like to give my thanks and random blubbering bows to Calger-san who wrote that amazing fanfic (it's over! *sniffle*). Without it this chapter would probably be boring. Heh. Well, even if it is boring, it would be less inciteful. ^_~  
  
The original title for this chapter was "Square". You can tell where the connection was made...

Reviewer Responses:

**Lucrecia LeVrai**: OOC is one of my pet peeves about fanfiction... if you don't know how to portray the character, don't write about him! That's why I always warn people when I'm purposely doing it wrong, ^_^  
  
**Maeve Riannon**: Well, I can imagine he wouldn't like the big city... after spending so many years running around being threatened with deadly peril, and who knows what happened during his wandering years... I just think he'd avoid cities if he could, instead just passing through.  
  
**ChiisaiLammy**: Hmm... Kenshin's past, eh? *points at chapter 80* Does that work? ^_^  
  
**JML**: Actually, that will really help me write a future chapter. Thank you, ^_^  
  
**Iram**: Right, right... I started one of them, and then forgot. I told you to remind me, ^_~ And I promise it'll be done.  
  
**April-san**: "Rock my woooooorld... little country girl..." Honestly, that was the song going through my head as soon as I finished that chapter. O_o Doesn't really fit Kenshin, though...

More coming soon!


	81. Chapter 81 Honey

Disclaimer: Not mine! *huff*

~*~

Kendo no Go  
In The Language of Kendo  
A Fanfic in 100 Chapters  
Akai Kitsune  
~*~  
81) Honey  
~*~

Kenji had a growing affection for sticky things, Kaoru learned as he grew older. As a toddler he loved to crawl through the mud, coating his clothes in the dirt - something she did not appreciate, despite the fact that it was Kenshin who usually did the laundry - and when he learned to walk, the habit became even more difficult to break.

It didn't take Kenji long to discover the wonders of honey. Somehow the very idea that something could be so amazingly sticky _and_ edible fascinated him. This amused Kenshin, and he found himself shopping for the sweet syrup more often as time passed. He discovered it to be surprisingly good as well - surprising, because of his usual avoidance of sugary foods. Never mind how _Kaoru_ felt about it.

Kaoru showed him something to do with honey which won him over in the end: by adding a generous spoonful to a cup of cool green tea in summertime, the flavour developed into something not too sweet, nor bitter; with the right amount - something he experimented with - it could become quite a treat.

At first, however, the honey would not blend properly with the tea, he noticed; it collected at the bottom of the lukewarm cup, rebelling against his intent to mix the two. Only by several attempts at stirring the stubborn syrup would the tea and honey blend together.

Kaoru watched him mix it one day, smiling when the honey disappeared as though he had conquered a great foe. He stared down at the cup, as if suddenly realizing some great thought.

"Kenshin?" she blinked, puzzled by his expression.

"It's like you," he murmured, then clamped his jaw shut, unwilling - or unable - to explain his enigmatic remark.

_ "You are too sweet for me..."_

She didn't ask him to elaborate, curious as she was; she knew his stubbornness like she knew her own, recognizing them both as a match for one another. She also knew - all too well - that firm expression on his face, fixed to his silence like giant boulders are to the shore. Only by slowly picking away at it could one break through the walls of refusal.

Truthfully, he didn't know _ how_ to explain his spontaneous observation - it had been sudden, not really considered fully until later, and unraveling the mystery even as he told her would only confuse them both. Eventually he pieced his thoughts together, but by then she had forgotten it, so there was no point in bringing it up, besides in his own mind.

It was the tea, not the honey, which reminded him of his wife; she was pure and untarnished, a light, comforting warmth to a weary traveler at the end of a long day's journey.

No, the intrusion to such purity was not Kaoru, but himself. Entering her life not by his own bidding but by the wind's calling, he was consumed by her warmth, her compassion, and he was defenseless against her pleas to stay. He tried - sometimes without sincere effort, but oh, he tried - to flee from her, but everywhere he went, she was there, right behind him, her welcome and her glowing smile drawing him back home again.

It took her several attempts to keep him with her - endless attempts to truly make it permanent - but the reward of their joining was well worth the effort. It was a constant trial, determining exactly how much of each would make the perfect blend, but the challenge was never beyond their abilities.

_ 'Sometimes beyond our patience,' _he admitted with a wry smile, _'But we never give up, do we?'_

_ '... maybe you'd understand, koishii...'_  
  
~*~  
  
This chapter was a royal pain in the behind, but I'm glad the idea finally came to me. This version is much different than my original plans, but the first outline didn't work well...  
  
I've tried the combination of chilled green tea and honey, and it was wonderful. ^_^ I highly recommend it... oh-so-good. For some reason it tastes better cool than hot. I have no idea why, but I experimented with both, and the flavour was nicer without heat. Though I agree with Kenshin's thoughts; the right combination of the two is what makes it good. It depends on personal preference, though.  
  
The original title of this chapter was "Butter".

_Reviewer Responses_:

**Michiru Kashyuuno**: I know... so close to the end... it makes me wanna cry, ;_;  
  
**Maeve Riannon**: Well, the idea was that Kenshin was one of those broken, discarded tools who needs fixing, and Kaoru is the tinker who "fixes" him, in a way. He does do somewhat the same, but he's less likely to think that way about himself, ^_^ Good point, though.  
  
**ChiisaiLammy**: No worries. I think we covered this when we chatted anyway, ^_^;;  
  
**Psychotic Tanuki:** Well, they're so short, it's nothing to gloat about or anything.  
  
**April-san:** I think Kenshin admires Kaoru a lot in the series, really... maybe it's her innocent spirit or something. I just like writing him as the appreciative husband. ^_^  
  
**Crystal17**: Saitou? Heh... I'm no good at Saitou. Although there is a Saitou-related chapter coming up... sort of...

More coming soon!


	82. Chapter 82 Mago

Disclaimer: Not mine! *huff*

~*~

Kendo no Go  
In The Language of Kendo  
A Fanfic in 100 Chapters  
Akai Kitsune  
~*~  
82) Mago  
~*~

Doctor Gensai had been a close family friend to Kaoru for a very long time - since she was a little girl - and he had been taking care of her injuries as far back as she could remember. He was a trusted figure in her life, and a treasured friend when all those who she deemed as important disappeared.

She knew from the beginning that she loved him, as a grandfather or even as a father when her own was not around, and he treated her like a true grandchild. Even after little Ayame's birth, he treated her no differently, and through his actions she found it easy to love and care for the girl and her younger sister.

She could remember Gensai's soft words of comfort when her mother died, his comforting embrace when a pair of swords was delivered to the dojo and her father was not, his bright smiles in the days she lived alone.

She could remember, with an amused expression on her face, the cautious warning he gave her when Kenshin first began to reside at her home.

"You've got to be wary of some of these ronins," he told her one day, after Kenshin had left to go shopping. "They can be filthy lechers, charming to all the world until they're left alone with an innocent girl."

He hadn't even known who Kenshin actually was, at that point. Hadn't seen the rurouni rescue her from that same fate at the hands of Gohei and his men, either.

"I've seen how gentle he can be," Gensai added as she began to object, "And he seems sincere. But... be careful, Kaoru-chan."

She hadn't been, truth be told. She allowed Kenshin into her home, and very soon, he filled it with new people, wanted or not.

_ 'All were wanted,' _she thought guiltily._ 'Even if I seemed reluctant... even if I argued... I wanted nothing more than to fill the dojo with laughter again.'_

_ 'Kenshin... Kenshin did it. He was the only one who could do it, even if it wasn't he who was laughing.'_

_ 'He brought joy to everyone... every life he touched...'_

Kenshin would argue with her if she ever told him, she knew. He might bring up examples - Jin'ei, Saitou, Shishio - of men he knew or had known who couldn't really feel joy in just his presence, but she believed in the truth even if he couldn't.

She also acknowledged that all three men had laughed because of him, though the reasons wouldn't allow her to point _that_ out to him.

Although she had always cared for him, Kaoru found that she never loved Gensai more than on the day the doctor brought her son safely into the world. With Megumi far away in Aizu, she and her family once again came to fully rely upon the older man's services. Neither Kaoru nor Kenshin wished to disturb Megumi's apparently blooming practice in her hometown, and so sent her many updates on Kaoru's pregnancy without any requests to visit for the sake of aiding with the child's birth.

"As a friend only," Kaoru said sternly to Kenshin one day as he scribbled out a letter seven months into the pregnancy. "I don't want her to think we want her here just because we're paranoid. I trust Gensai-sensei - but of course if Megumi-san wants to see us, she's welcome."

Megumi did come, in fact, but it wasn't until several days after the birth. She admitted later that she meant to be there in time to help, but Kenji had come earlier than expected. Once again Kaoru waved aside any apologies - a rare gift from the elder woman, but not really needed - and gave her friend a grateful, albeit weary welcome.

She was never quite sure why she was grateful Megumi hadn't been there for the slow, painful process which the birthing had become. Perhaps she feared the woman's gentle taunting that usually accompanied her treatment. Perhaps she didn't want her friend to see her so weak and terrified. Perhaps she felt that Kenshin, for all his frantic pacing and wide-eyed questions, had been enough to deal with.

Or perhaps she wanted Gensai alone to guide her through childbirth, his calm vice and gentle hand a comfort to rely upon. She wanted to give him the chance to bring her child into the world without the aid of a younger, more scholarly doctor offering her advice. Kaoru knew that Megumi always looked out for her patient's welfare to the best of her ability, but Gensai's practiced hand was far too often overshadowed by her, a fact which annoyed Kaoru sometimes.

She wanted Gensai to be the first to see his great-grandchild.

It was something he was grateful for - there had been tears in his eyes, she remembered noticing, even as her gaze focused on the wet streams of joy on her husband's cheeks when Kenji was pressed into his arms - and something she would never, ever regret.  
  
~*~  
  
Gensai was made into an important character in the anime - at least to Kaoru - but is too often overlooked. I thought it would be nice to give him some attention.  
  
The original title of this chapter was "Doctor". "Mago" means grandchild.

_Reviewer Responses_:

**Crystal17**: I agree... getting into Saitou's head would be pretty cool, ^_^ He's such a calculating character... so complex.  
  
**ChiisaiLammy**: Snow in the backdrop? *blink blink* Hm...  
  
**April-san**: Well, Kenshin's always been pretty tolerant of things. Makes me wonder what Kaoru did about it, ^_^  
  
**Iram**: *dying from all the bad puns* Although your little metaphors amused me nicely, hehe...  
  
**J1N**: Well, at least you made the effort. ^_^ Some people don't even bother.  
  
**Animegirl**: Actually, I'm currently not in school, so my free time is pretty good. That's just until I start working though... so not looking forward to that... _  
  
**Calger459**: Make it look EASY? O_O It only looks easy because I had all summer and several months beforehand to write it, *grin* Personally the only kind of green tea I drink is the cheap (an in, inexpensive yet well-flavoured) stuff from Chinese/Japanese stores downtown. I guess in Japan you'd find more tea _leaves_ as well as tea bags, ^_^ The bitterness depends on hoq long you leave the teabag in. It's my experience that if you dump out the first cup and drink the second, the bitterness it lessened but the flavour is better. It takes some experimentation...  
  
**animefanrk2k**: Well if Sano came for a visit, he'd probably have bummed the money off some poor American/Englishman/Frenchman/any-country-he-visited-man who doesn't know his freeloading ways, ^_~

More coming soon!


	83. Chapter 83 Errand

Disclaimer: Not mine! *huff*

~*~

Kendo no Go  
In The Language of Kendo  
A Fanfic in 100 Chapters  
Akai Kitsune  
~*~  
83) Errand  
~*~

It is one of those days where Kaoru just wants to scream.

She is in the market of downtown Tokyo, Kenji at her side yanking on her arm at every opportunity. They are shopping for tofu, rice, seasoning, tabi because her son has torn his again, and a new pot because she had burned a hole right through the one they had.

She would very much prefer to be somewhere else at that moment - is in fact supposed to be at home doing something unproductive - but she had offered to do the errands, just to be polite. Instead of thanking her graciously and refusing, Kenshin had smiled, said, "Oh, Kaoru, would you? There's a lot to get done here..." and walked off, muttering about chores to finish and meals to plan. So she went shopping.

It is unfair to be resentful, she knows. She offered, and he accepted knowing how much work there was left. He would never have asked her to do it for him.

As she passes a clothing store, she hesitates. Kenji still pulls at her arm, pointing at the sweet shop across the street. Ignoring the tantalizing scents, she enters the clothes store, tugging him with her.

The shopkeeper is at her side instantly, smiling and cooing over the child below her, encouraging her towards the kimonos for sale. Kaoru tries to object, to say that they require a few pairs of tabi and nothing else, but the rack of hanten catch her eye. She has wanted a new hanten for a long time, now. Kenji looks at her quizzically, already bored. A smile crosses her face, and he suddenly realizes they won't be leaving for a while.

Half an hour later, she marches out of the shop with a new hanten, a scowling child, and the smile still broad on her lips. To make Kenji feel better, she _does_ go to the sweet shop, purchasing a package of chocolate and sharing a few pieces with him. He smiles, then.

On the way home, she buys a newspaper, a new scent of perfume, and a jingling hairpin from a street vendor. She does not buy tofu, tabi, or rice, which are the things they really need.

When they reach the dojo Kenshin is hanging up the cleaned laundry, whistling to himself as he does so. Kenji lets go of her hand to tackle his father, curving chocolate-stained hands around his hakama.

Kenshin blinks at the chocolate, gently tugging loose the hands to wash them in the laundry tub. He looks at Kaoru, considers saying something, then thinks better of it. She walks past him, mumbling a brief "tadaima" and vanishing into the house. She can feel his puzzled eyes on her.

Kaoru heads straight for her bedroom, packages in hand. She puts on her best kimono, unwrapping the dark hanten and pulling it on as well. The cloth settles over her skin, smooth and silken and gorgeous. She pulls her hair free of the ragtag ponytail she had hurriedly arranged that morning, and replaces it with the most elegant, folded hairstyle she can manage, holding it in place with the hairpin. The glass beads chime softly as she moves her head back and forth, testing the look and feel of it in front of her mirror. A quick dab or two of perfume to her neck sends the faint scent of wildflowers drifting through the room. Taking the newspaper and chocolate, as well as a cup of chilled green tea from the kitchen, she moves to the back porch and relaxes on the engawa, flipping through the articles in the paper with a detached interest. She can hear, vaguely, the sounds of her family laughing and wrestling at the front of the property, but she pretends not to.

Eventually Kenshin and Kenji peer around the corner of the house, clearly baffled by her disappearance.

Kenji immediately rushes over, wrapping his arms around her neck, and exclaims, "Kaasan, you look beautiful! Kiss me!" He is not, she thinks to herself, always this good at saying exactly the right thing.

She obliges, kissing his cheek with a graceful smile, and he skips away, smelling the perfume where it had rubbed against his skin.

Kenshin merely blinks at her, and says, "Oro? Kaoru-dono, where did you put the tofu?" He is not, she thinks crossly, always this good at saying exactly the _wrong_ thing.

"I didn't get it," she responds simply, without the guilt she really ought to feel, and tosses aside the newspaper, heading for the kitchen. He follows her, wary of her mood.

When she begins opening cupboards, searching for a proper meal to cook, Kenshin intervenes. "Never mind," he says quietly, a gentle smile on his face, "I'll cook tonight."

"It's my turn," she argues half-heartedly, knowing she should agree, that any meal she cooked would be charred and reeking of perfume, and they would end up eating chocolate and cold tea for supper.

Kenji pads into the kitchen and grasps her sleeve, eyes wide and pleading. "Kaasan," he urges, "Can you play with me? The kitty ran away."

_But I'm cooking dinner,_ she wants to say. She wants to scream. She wants to scream and never stop screaming, but Kenshin's eyes are still on her, those big, beautiful, utterly clueless eyes as he wonders what on earth is wrong with her, when even she doesn't know the answer, and Kenji is still tugging at her kimono, so she supposes it would not be a wise idea.

Instead, she follows Kenji into the yard, playing his newest game as her husband cooks dinner with no tofu and very little rice, and she gets dirt all over her new hanten and the lovely kimono, in her elegant lady's hair, and very soon she realizes she doesn't care at all, not at all.

That thought makes her smile.  
  
~*~  
  
Sorry for the delay everyone! Got caught in real life, ^_^;; More will be coming shortly.

There are several similarities between this chapter and the original, but it was too much fun to change, ^_^ This was a long time coming, though. I just couldn't get in the mood.  
  
The original title was "Loud".

_Reviewer Responses_:

**Animegirl**: Don't wait too long, ^_^  
  
**Michiru Kashyuuno**: Kyaa! You're going to start counting down? Heh...  
  
**Iram**: *grin* Everyone's good for a laugh or two. I wish I could be good for more sometimes, ^_^  
  
**Crystal17**: I have never heard of an author saying "Stop reviewing!" and I don't plan on being the first. This is a good place to meet people, ^_^ Anyway, feedback is always helpful, positive or not. It lets the author know that people out there CARE about what they're doing. Personally, I appreciate that.  
  
**EEevee**: *waves* Well you can't say it's impossible until you try! ^_^ But everyone has different styles. There are some ways of writing I can't even begin to THINK about trying.  
  
**ChiisaiLammy**: Ahhh, roger that. ^_^;; Sorry, my brain was a little disfunctional at that point.  
  
**animefanrk2k**: Hm. I guess I haven't really thought much about Kaoru's girlfriends. ^_^ of course it doesn't seem like she has very many... too many men around. Heh...  
  
**Ariane**: You reviewed! ^_____^ Yes, I'll be posting a big note at the end of KnG regarding the sequel... it's still in the planning stages, but I'm hoping it'll work out.  
  
**haku baikou**: Welcome aboard, ^_^ Glad you enjoy it so far.  
  
**Run(A)way**: Well, I tried adding honey to green tea when it's hot, but for some reason the flavour doesn't stay. I'd have to add several spoonfuls of it, and then it'd just be too sugary, ^_^;;

More coming soon!


	84. Chapter 84 Pickpocket

Disclaimer: Not mine! *huff*

~*~

Kendo no Go  
In The Language of Kendo  
A Fanfic in 100 Chapters  
Akai Kitsune  
~*~  
84) Pickpocket  
~*~

Slam.

"Oro!"

It was a great turning point in their lives, Kaoru knew, the day when Yahiko attempted to steal Kenshin's wallet. They hadn't quite known it then - at least, she could assume Kenshin did not - but the young, scruffy-looking boy who was, in her opinion, in need of an attitude adjustment was to soon become a very important member of their growing family. She was grateful she had stopped him; certainly he would have kept moving, disappearing into the crowds, and continuing to pickpocket for the yakuza without complaint or rebellion.

_ 'We argue all the time,'_ she often thought to herself, _'But he really is a good kid, beneath it all.'_

_ 'It's just _ finding_ those good traits that's the problem...'_

He didn't deserve to live the life of a yakuza pawn, no matter what his faults may have been. He had too much spirit to be broken by the ruthless underworld - she could acknowledge that, seeing the same attitude in herself, thanks to Kenshin's suggestion - and she did her best to keep him from such things. Allowing him to live in her home, taking him in as her student and...

... brother...

It made her smile, to think of it. She knew her parents had tried for years to have a son, failing at every opportunity, and she could not miss the irony of finally gaining the heir to the dojo when she was old enough to marry, herself.

Yes, Yahiko was certainly the heir to the Kamiya style. If, perhaps, he ever took it seriously.

She often wondered why, on the cool spring day on the bridge, Kenshin had lowered his normally flawless and unbreakable senses to allow a small child through his defenses. It was unthinkable, a swordsman of his caliber, knocked down by a boy less than half his age, humiliated and mocked, his pride only somewhat rescued by the less-experienced girl he had already rescued several times. She wondered if Yahiko had puzzled over the same thing, after seeing Kenshin in action. He certainly wasn't hesitant about giving his opinions of the rurouni.

Eventually she figured out that Kenshin must have let Yahiko attack him. He must have - he _had_ to have, really - known the boy was coming yet did not move aside, for reasons he wouldn't easily explain. He had done it countless times since, after all; the thrown sake jug in the argument soon resolved by Sanosuke in there first meeting only one example. Sometimes his deliberate clumsiness was to protect, yet this...

_ '... to test?'_

_ "Foolish pride, or a strong sense of honour?"_

She marveled at his strength, how he could set aside personal gain and dignity to give others a chance to prove themselves. He had entrusted his honour and integrity to his friends time and time again, risking everything yet trusting them not to let him down.

_ "There's no one in the world I'd trust more."_

_ "I will entrust you with my vow not to kill."_

_ 'Yes... reliance on his friends... that's where Kenshin gets a great deal of his strength... even as they gain strength from him...'_

_ '... we all rely on him... for everything...'_

_ 'For so long, he was searching for an answer. But for us... even if we didn't know we were searching... our answer was him.'_

"Honestly, I don't know why I tolerate a brat like you!"

"And why should I listen to a hag teacher like you?"

"As if you've learned anything of kendo without me?"

"I could probably teach myself if people would ever stop hassling me!"

"_Fine_! Then go teach yourself whatever skills you'd learn with the yakuza if you weren't living here!"

With those words spoken, both teacher and student had stormed off in opposite directions: Kaoru in search of her husband for a good venting, and Yahiko for a little peace and quiet by the riverside. Kaoru's venting had transformed into a lesson she _hoped_ she would not soon forget, while Yahiko's solitude was swiftly interrupted when Kenshin found him, tossing stones into the flowing water.

The rurouni's approach was silent as always, and Yahiko didn't notice him until they were nearly side by side. Kenshin said nothing for a long time; he merely watched as the boy flung rocks into the air, a scowl crossing his expression.

"Kaoru-dono is making dinner," he finally spoke, crouching down in the grass to choose a few rounded stones.

Yahiko's scowl deepened. "So what?" he muttered darkly.

"Well... I'm certain both of you could use a few lessons yourselves, in the kitchen."

The younger man sent Kenshin a sideways glance, finding an almost amused smile on his mentor's face. He shrugged, turning back to the waters. "That's no skill for a yakuza," he grumbled, regretting the words immediately. He didn't want to acknowledge the pain he felt, however dim, nor did he want Kenshin to notice.

He did, of course. Kenshin was quiet for a moment, then pulled back his arm and flung the smooth rock in his hands. It skimmed across the surface twice before plunging down towards the bottom.

"But any samurai should know the basics of a kitchen, for the times when he is away from home and can't indulge in his wife's fine cooking," Kenshin countered, a flicker of remorse crossing his fine features.

"Some samurai know better than to marry an ugly woman with no skills whatsoever."

Once again, the older man was silent. The arm moved again, and Yahiko barely saw the stone's flight; merely saw the ripples where it touched the water at least a half-dozen times and sunk.

"You think your words are not hurtful?" Kenshin asked gently, breaking the dull silence with his words. Yahiko flinched slightly, as if struck.

"But I don't..." he began, trailing off slowly, tasting the words before he could finish. _'... I don't mean them...'_

Kenshin seemed to understand, regardless. "Many things we say may or may not be true; sometimes we speak in ignorance of how it may affect those around us."

Yahiko blinked quizzically at him, and he sighed, resigned.

"I once told a woman I would never raise a sword against her, to take her life," he whispered, rolling two stones between his fingers absently, "Yet six months later she lay dead at my hands, vow or no vow." He dropped one of the stones, watching it sink in the murky waters at his feet. "A woman, no matter how beautiful, who is constantly told she is ugly may come to believe it, in time."

Kaoru's apprentice stared at him, slackjawed and surprised; stunned, even. He could not, for the life of him, think of anything to say.

"I'm not telling you to change your ways, nor who you are," Kenshin glanced at Yahiko, raising an eyebrow meaningfully, "But I am... requesting... that you show my wife the respect you feel she deserves, not the insults your pride insists upon delivering."

Yahiko lowered his gaze, face flushed with supressed anger and shame. "Kenshin..." he began, but the older man flicked the final stone from his hand, and it sunk to the bottom, as if symbolizing the end of their conversation.

"Dinner should be ready soon," the rurouni said quietly, brushing his hands together and tucking them into his gi. "I find that the best way to apologize is to accept punishment without complaint, don't you?"

The boy hesitated, watching Kenshin turn and walk up the hill towards the city, then finally moved to follow, the river washing against the stones on the shoreline behind him.  
  
~*~  
  
Oh good lord. Chapter 84 = hell on earth. But I'm glad I got it done.  
  
The final section was, of course, meant to parallel chapter 47, in which Kenshin has a chat with Kaoru about Yahiko and then goes hunting for the poor kid (to drag him back for dinner, ^_~). I wanted to do a continuation of that, but I wasn't sure where... this chapter was perfect for it.  
  
Kenshin's little spiel about Tomoe was sort of out of character, but throughout the fic he's been pretty open about discussing her - I guess he mellowed out in his marriage or something, ^_^ - so I decided it was fitting. I couldn't think of any other way to put it.  
  
The original title was "Thief". This connection between titles was the fastest in the entire fanfic!

_Reviewer Responses_:

**Crystal17**: Hm. If you really want to see Kenji you should get either the Kenshin Kaden artbook or Volume 28 of the manga series! In Seisouhen you only see big Kenji and he's grumpy. *grin*  
  
**Ariane**: As an answer to your question, the sequel will most definitely be K&K and it'll be about as far from Seisouhen as a fic can get. Does that make you happy? ^_^  
  
**animefanrk2k**: I blissfully ignore the existence of Seisouhen in this fic. (Seisouhen? What's that? Some new Chinese dish? Maybe Kenshin will make it for dinner one night... seisouhen souffle...)  
  
**EEevee**: *nods* I used to love going shopping with my mom. I always got a chocolate bar. ^_^ But as a really little kid, it was "oh no, another three hours of Saturday afternoon wasted..." I never did realize that I wasn't missing anything at all... oh well.  
  
**Maeve Riannon**: That's something that can never be explained. I know I've had that sort of day... when I don't want to do anything but waste money and relax, even if I _know_ I have responsibilities. It was the same for Kaoru.  
  
**Animegirl**: Glad to see it made you feel better, ^_^  
  
**ChiisaiLammy**: Um... practice? ^_^;; And, wow. You basically said everything I wanted to say yet couldn't. Kudos to you.  
  
**Iram**: I can see it now... Iram-san, the Guidance Counselor Poster, ^_^ And in agreement to your statement... *grunt* Men!

More coming soon!


	85. Chapter 85 Storyteller

Disclaimer: Not mine! *huff*

~*~

Kendo no Go  
In The Language of Kendo  
A Fanfic in 100 Chapters  
Akai Kitsune  
~*~  
85) Storyteller  
~*~

Kenshin, Kaoru realized - though when, she couldn't precisely say - was not a very good storyteller. Watching him in those early days with Ayame and Suzume, she marveled at his patience and loving gentleness as he followed along with each and every game, allowing them to mold the world around them as they pleased. But she noticed that it was not he, but the girls who invented the games, who brought the world to life. He never questioned them, but he never offered his ideas, either.

It wasn't as if he had _no_ ideas, she thought to herself, with a tight frown she reserved for Kenshin and his quirks, for he had proven time and time again that he possessed a strong, calculating mind, capable of plenty of creativity. It was simply that he refused, for some obscure reason, to share them.

"I'm not a storyteller," he admitted to her one day, when she questioned him. "I think... I think I lost a part of that, during the war. It's not something that can survive in that kind of chaos."

There wasn't much to say to something like that, Kaoru later mourned.

After Kenji was born, it seemed that, after all, some things _could_ survive. Kenshin was a strong source of information for his young son, doing his best to help the boy grow up with the beliefs that he and Kaoru had followed all their lives - and, in the end, perhaps make a choice to follow those he formed himself. Kenshin carried high hopes for Kenji; hope that his son would be an heir to his name but not his legacy, hope that he would never stumble along the road but instead be a steadfast example for his child, hope that he would be the kind of father a boy would _want_.

High hopes, he thought wryly, but of whom, really?

His stories weren't _really_ stories, he knew, but a simple relay of past experience, an extended biography of who he had been in order to aid his son on the path of who he would be. There were no dark, bloody tales of assassins in the night, no quiet murmurings of secret death and cold madness. He knew that one day, Kenji would have to know - about death, at least, for it was unavoidable - but the longer such truths were averted, the better, in Kenshin's opinion. He had his own fears of such things, anyway.

Kaoru knew, he was certain. She knew - and didn't know - a great deal of things in his life. Some things he planned on telling her - in time, when _his_ fear, perhaps, faded - and some he would keep to himself, knowing them to be unfit for any ear in this day and age.

Kenji had been chasing the butterfly all morning, running through the garden as Kenshin tended the vegetables, dodging plants and gentle chiding from his father, when suddenly he grasped the tiny body too tightly between his fingers. His smile wide at the success, he opened clasped hands to reveal the brightly coloured creature.

Kenshin spun at his abrupt wail, hurrying over to where Kenji gazed at his hands in horror.

"What is it?" he asked softly, his eyes fiercely protective.

His only answer was another sniffle, and two outstretched palms. Gazing down, Kenshin noticed the captured butterfly, unmoving on bare skin.

"Oh," he said simply, after a moment.

He felt alarm bells in his heads, shrieking their sharp warning even as he took a breath to speak.

"It won't fly," Kenji moaned before he could say another word, shaking the butterfly a few times. Kenshin winced helplessly.

"Um..." he tried again. "That's because it's... er... it's dead, Kenji."

"Dead?" Kenji repeated, eyes wide and utterly uncomprehending.

His father pursed his lips, waving a hand through the air as if that should be answer enough. He looked up to see Kaoru standing in the doorway of the house, watching. He raised an eyebrow, silently asking for aid, but she didn't move, wearing _that_ frown, and so he sighed and hoped that three was his number.

_ 'Storyteller indeed,' _he thought with an inward scowl, but Kenji was staring at him, and he knew all too well the boy's patience was thin.

After a moment, an idea began to form, and with it, words. "Kenji, do you remember the fireflies?"

The child peered down at the lifeless bug, baffled by the connection, but nodded.

That made things easier. "Do you remember what I told you about them?"

A pause. Finally, another nod.

"What did I say?"

This time, there was a struggle with memory. "You said... um..." Kenji's eyes narrowed in concentration. "The fireflies were people who weren't... weren't around anymore."

Kenshin nodded his head in approval. "That actually means that... well, it happens to everyone, not just people. So... now it was time for it to happen to the butterfly."

Kenji's eyes were enormous once again. "The butterfly turned into a firefly?"

His father shrugged, somewhat relieved for an escape. "That's... one way to put it, yes."

The boy stared at the bug. "But it's still _here_!" he persisted.

Kenshin's lips cracked a small smile. "Well... it's the soul of a person that becomes a firefly, right? So it doesn't need a butterfly body anymore."

"Oh."

He still sounded a little disappointed, so Kenshin continued. "Kenji, what do you like about butterflies?"

"They fly!" Kenji answered immediately, eyes dancing with delight.

"Fireflies do," Kenshin said mildly. "What else?"

The child paused. "They're colourful..."

"Ah, that's it," Kenshin nodded slowly. "Maybe the butterfly got tired of being colourful and wanted to try something different."

"What?"

"Light!" Kenshin smiled at the boy's query. "The butterfly wanted to glow at night."

"Ohh..."

_Success_, Kenshin allowed himself to think, hoping that Kenji would go back to his play or begin helping him with the garden, something he was more certain of.

"Tousan?"

Or not. He scolded himself; surely he was being a bad father with such thoughts. "Yes, Kenji?"

Small arms wrapped around his waist, a face buried in his gi. "I'd rather be a butterfly."

Kenshin thought of the fireflies then; of dark farewells, of watching them with his family not long ago, of what they were, at the end of all things.

_The end_.

"So would I, Kenji," Kenshin finally whispered, brushing a hand through his son's hair.

Gently, he pulled back and looked pointedly at the small, crumpled insect still in Kenji's hand. "Shall we bury it in the garden?"

As the light reappeared in his child's eyes, Kenshin thought of stories, of lessons, and his own faded childhood.

Not all gone, he realized, and not all bad, either.  
  
~*~  
  
Tied in with chapter 17, obviously. The original title was "Lion", but the concept was difficult to work with...  
  
As a note to Kenshin's elusive thoughts, he wasn't trying to get out of talking to Kenji, just the subject and the chore of explaining death. (poor, over sensitive rurouni-chan...)  


_Reviewer Responses_:

**EEevee**: Of course it is! Because Kenshin never lies. Well, a few little white lies maybe... and a lot of secrets... er... okay, so he's not perfect, ^_^  
  
**Iram**: I get your point. I feel better now, thanks, ^_^  
  
**Maeve Riannon**: Heh, I guess it depends on what kind of shopping. I'd rather be at home playing video games than looking at clothes with my mom, :P  
  
**Ariane**: Yeah, I figured; it makes me happier too, now that I think of it. Seisouhen was just too depressing. I can't keep that mood up for 140+ chapters.  
  
**Animegirl**: Who does that song, out of curiousity? I might want to hear it someday, ^_^  
  
**Crystal17**: I guess I would describe Kenji in Seisouhen as sullen and bitter... and yes, very much a teenager. But in the manga he just cries a lot.  
  
**Jhoi**: Oooh, good point. I honestly didn't even think of that.  
  
**Calger459**: Ah, that makes me feel better. I wasn't sure about the connection in 70, but it makes more sense than before, so... *shrug*

**animefanrk2k**: That would be an interesting story. Kenshin is moody and puts a liiiiiittle bit too much spice in the food. The world must be coming to an end. ^_^

More coming soon!


	86. Chapter 86 Kanji

Disclaimer: Not mine! *huff*

~*~

Kendo no Go  
In The Language of Kendo  
A Fanfic in 100 Chapters  
Akai Kitsune  
~*~  
86) Kanji  
~*~

Whenever she thought about his name, Kaoru couldn't help but feel a deep sense of romanticism in Kenshin. It was aptly chosen, so perfectly selected out of all the possible names a child could have, for the legend he was to grow up into. _Heart of Sword_.

She never doubted that it was his name; she asked, and he answered. She trusted him to be honest as she had always been with him, though he had his secrets and his protective lies. For what was a name? It should have been a thing of pride, for him. Glory, if he was a different sort of man.

She liked to write it out sometimes, the elegant traditional characters of his name, over and over when she was certain he wasn't watching her. Four simple characters, scattered across a sheet of rice paper, the smooth brush strokes creating a picture of the man she had come to care for. To love.

_Hi. Mura. Ken. Shin._

_Hi_. She wrote it with care, the jagged lines a simple imitation of his brilliant, beautifully unruly hair, and the straightforward nature of his stranger, darker personality. Anger.

_Mura_. A wanderer, coming to her city, her town, entering her life with all his troubles and a cross-shaped scar, just as the ideogram indicated. A cross, a judgment others made of him when they noticed his marred cheek.

_Ken_. A sword, like the forbidden sword at his waist, like the sword of his anger, his justice, striking down men who were cruel or greedy, foolish or ambitious, those who threatened anyone who needed his protection. Like his heart, truly. A sword, and beside it, a home, like the great shelter he was to those who were near him.

_Shin_. His heart, her heart, mingling together, forever apart. Constantly seeking each other within the center of the image, drawing closer together each time she repeated the strokes, never touching; the tiny lines like falling teardrops.

She thought for a long time about his name, how it blended into so many words, so many things in the world, but she could focus only on the final kanji. _Shin_. Heart. How could it be so open, so full, yet closed and empty as well?

She wanted his heart for her own.

Sometimes she played with her own name, blending it into his own, wondering how they would look together if - when - they became a family. The possibilities were difficult to consider; who's name would become the other's?

Himura Kaoru?

Kamiya Kenshin?

She watched her hand as it wrote her own name, how the strokes came so automatically, with the practiced ease that Kenshin seemed to lack. His name was beautiful, and she hoped someday to help him write it perfectly, elegantly as she could. It was one of her few feminine skills; the ability to wield a brush just as she wielded the sword, to make it dance page upon page without a flaw in the writing. It made her smile, both in pride at her own abilities, and in amusement at Kenshin's odd deficiency.

She admired her father's name, her family name, and there was great pride in that as well. Kamiya. _ Kami_ - the gods, the presumption of the gods in _her_ name - _Ya_, also creating the image of a protective home, rising above those inside to shelter and warm them. She had always felt that her own name looked like a beautifully dressed dancer, crowned in jewels, presenting her talent with her head held high before all who watched.

Such a complex kanji for a seemingly simple person.

As much as she loved her name, she gave it up for the love of her husband, although he never asked it of her. He offered to take her name - a surprise to her, though it really should not have been, considering his usual selflessness - but she wouldn't allow that.

She had made a decision some time ago, writing down names and titles in a disorganized scribble of words and pictures, that as much as she wanted to carry on her own name - with her pride and her love - she wanted even more to recreate the legend that was imbedded into her lover's name. She wanted to change all that was associated with the name Himura, from the legends of the manslayer to a penniless freeloader who attracted trouble, and form a new man, a new reputation. She wanted people to know _Himura_ Kenshin, family man, husband - even father, eventually. She could not just sweep the existence of his name under the carpet and let him start anew with her name. Change was a gradual thing, and from her experiences with him she knew that forgiveness was not granted in an instant.

And so she became Himura Kaoru. And she continued to draw, forming the words together on letters, dojo certificates and contracts, anything she possibly could. She took his name and made it her own. Part of him was hers.

His name, his heart.

When she discovered that she was going to have a child - part of him, _her own_, she couldn't help but think once again, with a thrill running through her - Kaoru immediately wanted to be sure that Kenshin knew the baby was his. Not simply as a father, for there was no doubt at all in that; she was who she was, and just as he could not fathom to be unfaithful, neither could she. But she wanted her child to be _his_ in the eyes of the world the moment she introduced him.

So, back to the drawing board she went, ink and brushes in tow.

She doodled and she sketched, imagining what the child might look like; his features, how his smile would light up his face and his eyes would sparkle at every wonder of the world. She created names for girls, names for boys - somewhat reluctantly, for she wasn't sure about having a boy, really - names that involved the kanji she had grown to know so well since her initial meeting with the soft-spoken man she married. Over and over she drew each picture, each word, and gazed at them, focusing on the flow of each syllable with the name she had chosen for herself.

She asked Kenshin a few times, but he always smiled - the smile that lit up his face, like the child she imagined having - and shrugged, stating that it was up to her, that it truly didn't matter to him what the child's name was. He would love his child, regardless. She _knew_ that.

It was impossible to decide. The image was there - both in name and feature - but she didn't _know_ what the child would look like. The name had to fit the face, of course. It was part of who they were. Impossible. Kenshin just kept on smiling.

And finally, when a child was handed to her, barely discernible through all the blankets and that silly mop of hair, with scrunching eyes and a bawling voice, she was able to smile, to take her husband's hand, and to give her son a name.

The name never looked so beautiful on paper as it then appeared in her mind.  
  
~*~  
  
Another delayed chapter. I spent a lot of time staring at the kanji for each character, focusing on the definitions, writing what first came to mind when I saw it. I went from there, but it was a hassle for a long while, that's for sure, ^_^;;  
  
Kudos go to Laine, and the Rurouni Kenshin FAQs. The site has a great kanji list and was an awesome help for writing this chapter.  
  
Another thank you goes out to Yumi-san, and her fanfic also titled "Kanji". I unfortunately didn't realize they had the same title until I read the fic again, -_-;; But she also wrote about Kaoru combining the couple's names in order to "try them out for size", as she stated. It's a lovely little piece, and it was a great memory to use while writing this chapter.  
  
The original title was "Joy". I was trying to think of a way to work that in, but it turned out differently. But I've discussed Kaoru's happiness in other ways, so maybe it's fine. Or maybe it'll come up later. Who knows...  


_Reviewer Responses_:

**Iram**: Actually, that's a good thought. Who exactly told Kenji about Kenshin's past? Something worth thinking about, ^_^ (or writing... *grin*)  
  
**Crystal17**: LOL, well I think the whole fireflies idea was born from reading a lot of net explanations. Everywhere I looked I saw the connection between fireflies and death. ... I have yet to play any of the .hack games, since I just got my PS2 recently, but I'm looking forward to playing them eventually. ^_^  
  
**April-san**: One thing we can say about Kenshin is that he's good with words when he has to be, ^_^ (all other times he can be sorta tactless, sadly enough...)  
  
**Ariane**: *rains updates down on Ariane's head* Yeah, really. Leave it to his kid to ruin Kenshin's serious mood, ^_^  
  
**Maeve Riannon:** True... if he wasn't so sensitive, we all wouldn't love him as much, I think, ^_^ And that really is a weird coincidence.  
  
**Animegirl**: Ah, I should have known! Evanescence is just showing up everywhere...  
  
**ChiisaiLammy**: Well you know me. Disjointed chapters are constantly a problem with this fic, -_-;; Although I found it to be pretty much the same style in the source novel, so maybe that's the reason... it could be that I have really strange ways of joining things together. O_o I need to work on that. (Thank god for revision, :P)

More coming soon!


	87. Chapter 87 Futon

Disclaimer: Not mine! *huff*

~*~

Kendo no Go  
In The Language of Kendo  
A Fanfic in 100 Chapters  
Akai Kitsune  
~*~  
87) Futon  
~*~

When Kaoru was young, she sometimes spent the night curled up in her mother's arms, sharing the warmth of her parent's bed, away from whatever had frightened her. Her father disapproved, but there was a great deal he disapproved of when her mother was alive, so they paid him no heed.

He didn't often object, even if he thought she was too old for such indulgence.

After her mother's death, Kaoru spent her nights alone, in her grief and in her fear. Sometimes even in her joy, though she loved her father and knew he loved her. But he was always a stern, serious man, not to easily brought to smiles or laughter. She viewed him as a challenge, and he often said that stubbornness was ingrained into the Kamiya blood. It was days like that when she wished for a child of her own - to test this theory, or to make her father proud, at the very least. She had proven to be the very opposite of all that was female, otherwise, or so she usually thought.

But she was young - too young, at heart, as Gensai-sensei often chided almost enviously - to think about having children, and there was time enough for that. Though not enough for her father, she learned. Knowing suddenly that people, however loved, did not live forever, was a very harsh lesson.

It was this lesson she kept in mind almost constantly, after Kenshin began living at the dojo. His mortality was very important to her - she learned this each and every time his life was in danger - and it was quite true, what Megumi had said: he was no god, no immortal. Simply a strong, gifted, and incredibly lucky man.

_ 'Lucky to live through such... such...'_

_ 'Such horrible times.'_

There was more to be said about his life, more than she could or would ever say; what his days as an assassin had done to him, how isolated he had become, why every smile he wore was tempered by the quiet suffering behind his eyes. There was more, so much more, and she could never speak of them, nor say that she didn't care, when she did.

_'I do care...'_

_ 'I said I didn't, but...'_

_ 'It's part of him. If I care at all for him, I have to acknowledge that...'_

She had a lot of time to think about such things, lying awake in her own bed, gazing at the ceiling and fingering the place at her side where, on a double futon, he might lie beside her one day. She often dreamed of it, the feel of his body close to hers, the sound of his soft breathing - she had never, in all the times she had watched him sleep, heard him snore - the sight of his smile first thing in the morning. The dream of someday seeing his eyes glow with nothing but love when he looked at her - without sadness, or regret, or guarded feelings he could not share with a stranger.  
There were other things she dreamed, but they only made her blush like a little girl - certainly _not_ becoming of a wife - so she did not think often on such things.

When the time came at last to share her room and bed with him - an adventure and a feat to bring about, that was certain - she found she was not as shy as she thought. There was no reason to be, really; shyness was spurred by fear, and why should she fear a husband she welcomed, wanted, one who was so timid and gentle with her? Kenshin was too kind a soul to harm her, and he would need her guidance as much as she needed his.

_ 'We'll learn together, won't we? We'll share, Kenshin and I.'_

_ 'That's what this is all about, isn't it...'_  
  
~*~  
  
Another chapter that seems somewhat incomplete to me. Of course, this is the kind of fanfic I'd expect to end in a lemon. *evil grin* Kidding, kidding.  
  
The original title of this chapter was "Bed".  


_Reviewer Responses_:

**Animegirl: **Well I think this only works because the Japanese have different meanings for each syllable when they write kanji... our letter system isn't anywhere near that complex, ^_^ (thank goodness, otherwise it'd take a looooong time to learn.)  
  
**Crystal17**: There's a Sora in .hack as well? I'm currently playing Kingdom Hearts so I'm a big stuck on that character, ^_^  
  
**whatandwhy**: Wow. Interesting cooincidence. That seems to happen to me all the time... for some reason I'll be reading something while the radio or TV is on, and I'll hear a word at the exact moment I'm reading it... sort of like a reverse-form of deja vu or something, ^_^;;  
  
**Maeve Riannon**: Must be the chapter of cooincidences then. Weird.  
  
**animefanrk2k**: I think Sano would complain more if Kenshin's food tasted bad... just because he's come to expect quality! ^_^  
  
**Iram**: Me? Oh heck no, never... *wicked grin-remake*  
  
**Ariane**: I agree completely! ^_^ But try to think of it as Kaoru accepting that Kenshin will never really _want_ a clean slate, however much he might pretend to. He thinks to much about his past to really want to forget it. It's his past that makes him such a likeable character after all!

More coming soon!


	88. Chapter 88 Heart

Disclaimer: Not mine! *huff*

~*~

Kendo no Go  
In The Language of Kendo  
A Fanfic in 100 Chapters  
Akai Kitsune  
~*~  
88) Heart  
~*~

_I have a person inside me._

That was the thought which became a permanent fixture in Kaoru's mind several days after she discovered - much to the amusement and pride of her long-time family doctor - that she was pregnant. It was also the cause of a great deal of paranoia, some of which was healthy, and some not.

Distinguishing between the two caused no small amount of disagreement between herself and her husband.

"There's nothing to worry about," Kenshin assured her, a bright smile ever existent on his face. "The doctor says the baby is healthy, so why should we doubt?"

Yes, why? Kaoru couldn't answer him; she couldn't understand where he got such a passive attitude from. It was almost infuriating.

But she really couldn't find it in her heart to be angry with him, especially when _his_ heart seemed so open to everything that involved the baby. Shopping, cleaning, her own growing enthusiasm - and occasional lamenting - over the growth in her belly. He took her complaints in stride, celebrated her delight at any sort of indication of life from their child - a soft stirring, a gentle heartbeat, a rough, breathtaking kick - and did his best to comfort her when fears of motherhood brought her to tears.

How, she wanted to wail, sometimes, could he be so _perfect_?

But he wasn't, and she knew it; he had his share of doubts, his share of brooding moments that made her want to sigh in exasperation and snap him back to reality. She didn't - at least, she tried not to. Kamiya Kaoru did have her limits, just as anyone else.

They fought - as every couple must - and later admitted that it was mostly due to the growing stress an addition to the family would bring. Kaoru blamed her temper; Kenshin blamed himself in entirety, but she expected that and so ignored it more easily than in the past. She was accustomed to his flaws, and he was seemingly ignorant - or tolerant - of hers, and so they survived, somehow.

Until the birth.

Kaoru often winced, looking back upon the birth, and though she wouldn't say it _ after_, she could distinctly recall thinking it was not - was _not_ - worth the pain. She could also recall saying a good many things that made her blush, later - indeed, made _Kenshin_ blush, if her memory was clear enough.

It was a long, agonizing process - rather embarrassing, from her viewpoint - but the emotion she felt when she saw the shrieking red thing Gensai placed in her arms... the _ emotion_ alone was enough to make her forget it all.

That, and the expression Kenshin wore when he was finally let inside to see his wife and newborn child, both alive and well after eighteen hours of waiting.

Kaoru would never forget his face, all the days of her life, as he took their son from her and held him close. The child, moments into existence, had stolen the rurouni's heart. Her heart, just as surely, she had to note.

His heart. Heart of Sword.

"_Oh_," Kenshin said softly, strangely unaware of the tears in his eyes, "Oh, I'll take care of you, child..."

His path was clear, clearer than the sky in midsummer, clearer than water after the storm, clearer than his eyes, that day.

"Are you going to name him?" Kaoru asked, a little shy of intruding.

He glanced at her, kneeling beside the bed, and smiled brightly. "That's not for me to choose," he murmured, squeezing her hand.

An unfair statement, she thought, considering who he was. But she was glad, nonetheless; he would never dream of suggesting the name she had in mind.

"All right," she nodded, brushing her hand lightly through the wet fluff of auburn hair on the baby's head, "What do you think of this..."

And so, Himura Kenji entered the world. And the family survived.

Until...  
  
~*~  
  
Woo, a baby chapter, ^_^ These are my thoughts on Kenji's name; I always assumed it was Kaoru's suggestion, since I can't imagine Kenshin even dreaming about having a child named (at least in part) after him. Kaoru is less inclined to object - she'd probably find the idea fitting, despite any objections Kenshin might offer.  
  
The ending was a little spontaneous. There are always conditions to parenting, and it never ends with any certain incident; there is always another "until next time" waiting around the corner. This was a bit of a joke on my part. *skips off humming "Inspector Gadget"*  
  
The original title was "Heavy".  


_Reviewer Responses_:

**EEevee: **Yeah, that's the chapter I was always pretty dissatisfied with, no matter what I did. So I left it and hoped everyone would forgive me, ^_^**  
  
Maeve Riannon: **Eh? Why would you miss it? It'll still be here whenever you check the fic, ^_~**  
  
Song of the Muse: **I suppose love is in the eye of the beholder. Maybe the number of chapters scare people away, ^_^ I don't suppose you'd mind sending over some of your Muse... mine seems to have drifted away. (kidding, kidding.)**  
  
Animegirl: **Well, the sequel is still in the planning stages and will probably stay this way for a long time... at least until I catch up a bit on my other fics. But I hope to write it for sure, ^_^**  
  
Sessha's Crazy: **Thanks to you, I finally know what it means to have a screen name. ^_^ And while I agree with your "-dono" translation to an extent... how do you explain Kenshin calling Okina "Okina-dono"?  
Kenshin: My lady Okina, how may I serve you!  
Okina: You can start by NOT kissing my hand in greeting.**  
  
animefanrk2k: **Hm, true. That would definitely be a good thing to write about, ^_^**  
  
Michiru Kashyuuno: **Ah, more people counting down. I'm so depressed. :P**  
  
Crystal17: **Yeah, I'm pretty much obsessed with Kingdom Hearts now, ^_^ I just beat it today, but I didn't finish all the sidequests so I haven't seen everything yet! There is a sequel though - I've seen websites advertising it, and I've also seen a very cool trailer, ^_^**  
  
ChiisaiLammy: **Yeah, if there's one thing I liked about Seisouhen, it's the mention of Kaoru's parents. Even if it's not what Watsuki-san envisioned, it's nice to actually see for once...

More coming soon!


	89. Chapter 89 Wolf

Disclaimer: Not mine! *huff*

~*~

Kendo no Go  
In The Language of Kendo  
A Fanfic in 100 Chapters  
Akai Kitsune  
~*~  
89) Wolf  
~*~

Kaoru could remember her first impression of Saitou Hajime; his arrival at the Kamiya dojo brought instant discord, in his false message from the chief of police about an assassin of some sort. She felt fear, as she always did when Kenshin was in danger, but she failed to see the calm, knowing smirk on the man's face - the man calling himself Fujita Goro, who had so easily fooled them all.

Perhaps that was what angered her so much: that she had allowed such a dangerous person into her home, simply because he claimed to be an officer of the law.

_ 'We've had enough trouble from the police in the past to know better by now,' _she mused with a tight frown. _'I was so concerned with Kenshin, I never even thought...'_

When Kenshin came back - from a battle with an assassin who had been coerced into the attempt by Saitou, ironically - and revealed Saitou's true identity, Kaoru was given a new sort of fear, though from a different source and for a very different reason.

She never truly forgave Saitou for that, no matter how irreplaceable an ally he later became. He awoke something in Kenshin even the rurouni believed was long gone, remaining only as a ghost of the past. He made Kenshin leave her, leave them all.

Kaoru felt something, a glimmer of remorse, when the insanity of the night was dimmed and Sano, still tired and sore from the battle with Shishio, reported that Saitou did not survive the escape. The gods knew she had no reason to love the man - he wanted to _kill_ Kenshin, after all - but there was something in the rurouni's eyes when Saitou was mentioned thereafter that made her wish he was not dead. He was not a friend, but he was a remnant of the past, Kenshin's past, and he was important, and respected in a way. Many ways.

It was because of this feeling that she didn't feel any fear when Saitou appeared through the smoke during Enishi's first attack at the dojo. Still seeking his own goals, and his own justice, which never ceased to irk her, but... his intervention had helped Kenshin avoid one more fight, spare a little more strength, and could quite possibly have saved his life that day.

She sometimes felt that she owed him a bit of gratitude for all he'd done, but it was difficult to do so, and she found it impossible to understand why Kenshin seemed to respect him so much. They were so different, so painfully separate - Kenshin, smiling and gentle, Saitou, arrogant and cold - and constantly at odds. Sanosuke, who had spent the most time with both of them, had to grudgingly admit that when they worked together, it was startling how capable they were.

"Those," he mumbled, gazing out the shoji opening to watch Kenshin one day, "Are two very dangerous and amazing men."

It was hard to see Kenshin as dangerous - particularly as he did laundry, which is precisely what he had been doing when Sano first spoke those words - but there was no denying that it took true talent to hide the fierce nature of the Battousai beneath so much mild domesticity. Perhaps that was _why_ he was so dangerous.

She had to admit, though, that the world was full of surprises, this not the least among them.

Kaoru also had to admit how surprised she was to see Saitou among those who came to Enishi's island to rescue her. She knew he was only there for Enishi, but he could have remained with the rest of his police force - a detail Kenshin quietly pointed out to her later, curiously. There was something different between them, she noticed; a deeper respect, of sorts. She didn't find out until later what it was, and only from Megumi's related account of what had happened before she stumbled through the trees.

"These are my friends," Kenshin had said, when Heishin had mocked his supposed underlings and followers. Four men.

Including one former Shinsengumi captain, Saitou Hajime. The one who wanted Kenshin dead.

_Friend_?

_ 'It's so odd,' _ Kaoru thought, remembering the words. '_All this time, we thought they were enemies, just allies for the moment, until the time they challenged one another again...'_

_ 'But we were wrong. And Kenshin knew...'_

Saitou hadn't objected; hadn't even reacted to the statement. His eyes were on his opponent, waiting for the next battle to come. He cared nothing for the words of the one he claimed to have become a sentimental idiot.

But he didn't object.

It was so odd, she thought, but she was glad, and grateful, anyway. She was almost sad when Saitou moved to Hokkaido, never to appear again at the doorstep of the Kamiya dojo.

Almost.  
  
~*~  
  
It's rare that you find a fic about the relationship between Kaoru and Saitou, so here's my take on it. I often wondered what they must have thought of one another: the man who knew Battousai of the past, and the girl who didn't know anything at all except the Kenshin of the present. An interesting concept, anyway.  
  
The original title was "Tobacco". I thought instantly of Saitou, but I never did get into that particular habit of his. Oh well...

_Reviewer Responses_:

**EEevee**: Hehe, well I guess it depends on where you are in life. I'm not really looking forward to being a mum either, if it makes you feel any better.  
  
**ChiisaiLammy**: I'm glad it turned out all right, because I was empty of ideas fr the longest time.  
**  
Maeve Riannon**: Well, I personally have always wondered if Kaoru even knew what Kenshin's original name was. She never indicated that she did in the series, nor did it seem like Kenshin told her. However, the name I meant in the fic was "Kenji", since that's what she suggested. Since it's based off his name, Kaoru assumed Kenshin wouldn't offer to name their son after him.  
  
**Animegirl**: Nope, no clue who names Kenji. That was just my opinion.  
  
**Crystal17**: Hm... I never really think about what sort of father Sano would be like, ^_^ It's hard to imagine, isn't it... and I'm definitely enjoying KH to the fullest. But I'm scared of Sephiroth... ;_;  
  
**Ariane**: That's always been a mystery to me. Kaoru has a tendency to yell a lot, but Kenshin doesn't... so the two of them fighting is just a strange image. But no couple is perfect...  
  
**animefanrk2k**: That's why I made it different! Bwahaha...

More coming soon!


	90. Chapter 90 Akachan

Disclaimer: Not mine! *huff*

AN: Sorry for the delay everyone! Since the fic is technically finished and the chapters no longer require writing - just editing - I keep forgetting that I'm the only one who's seen it all, ^_^;; My bad... but thank you for your patience!

~*~

Kendo no Go  
In The Language of Kendo  
A Fanfic in 100 Chapters  
Akai Kitsune  
~*~  
90) Akachan  
~*~

Time does not stop for anything. Kaoru knew this, even when she was suddenly preoccupied with the arrival of Kenji into her family. The world kept turning, businesses still ran, people continued living. She found it hard to believe, staring down at her little baby, that the entire world wasn't halted in its place so everyone could come into her home and have a look.

There had never, she decided finally, been such an adorable child in the entire world.

Realistically, she knew that she was speaking like a mother. Parents never acknowledged their child as ugly, right? They never looked down at that sweet, innocent face and thought to themselves, _'He is such an ugly-'_

But truthfully, Kenji was a handsome child. Kaoru often commented on this, pointing out to Kenshin the different features that belonged to each of them. A small, rounded nose (Kaoru), unusually large eyes (Kaoru again - _and such a beautiful colour_, Kenshin murmured), thin cheekbones (Kenshin of course), strong fists (inherited from both, evidently), and that gorgeous hair that could be no one's but Kenshin's (_and yours_, Kenshin insisted, brushing his hand through the mussy auburn locks).

They lived in the bliss of their son's existence for several days, floating around the dojo like lovesick birds. Neither seemed to notice Yahiko's grumbling, or the playful games of Ayame and Suzume with their visiting grandfather, or Tae and Tsubame's own comments on the child's development. Kenji was their heaven.

Eventually, the world did move on. Kenji became old news, less exciting to many people around them and more of a source of noise and aggravation. Yahiko stated several times that the boy was a troublesome brat when left alone, much like his busu mother. Tsubame said quietly that he _was_ a bit of a handful. Tae, when asked, would mutter that she'd love to baby-sit, provided he was kept away - far away - from the Akabeko kitchen. Neither parent wanted to ask what sort of disaster had occurred the last time Kenji was at the restaurant without his parents. Even Kenshin suffered his share of hair pulling, which Kaoru suspected would not be such a problem if he had not have cut that wonderful hair of his.

Megumi seemed to be the only one who had no trouble with him. Her excuse was that she had handled plenty of children in the past, observing mothers and their conditions after birthing, and that no child was too difficult to control. It all depended on the parents, she stated firmly, raising an eyebrow at Kaoru. Which of course sent Kaoru into a fit.

But Megumi was usually gentle with Kaoru when discussing motherhood; perhaps she knew how uneasy Kaoru was with the subject. The younger woman was constantly fearing her motherly skills - if she held the baby correctly, if she fed him enough, if she was acting badly and that he wouldn't ever love her even though she loved him so much she would burst.

Everyone reassured her that she was doing fine, the family was perfect, Kenji loved her dearly and always would. But fear was always there, and she hated it. She wondered if the hate would swell like a balloon and somehow be transferred to the child she held in her arms. She wondered if everyone would someday see what a bad job she was doing and take Kenji away from her.

Kenshin was her refuge. He knew her moods too well; knew when to comfort her, when to stay away and give her room, when to take Kenji from her and let her be alone for a while. He knew when to burst into the room with a grin and a child on his shoulders, calling out that "kaasan needed to come play with tousan and the akachan!" She didn't know precisely how he knew, or when he had learned, but she was grateful, especially when Kenji learned to laugh with him.

Slowly her fears began to fade, as she grew more confident, more assured with the life she had made with her husband and son.

_ 'This is what I wanted,' _she thought to herself one day, watching her son take his first steps, a wide smile on his face, laughter dancing in his twilight eyes, Kenshin kneeling before him with arms wide open in welcome.

_ 'I wanted a family, where we could all be happy and together for the rest of our lives.'_

_ 'I wanted the dojo to be full of laughter.'_

_ 'We made it, Kenshin... we made it work, we made it into what we really wanted and needed.'_

_ 'This is home.'_  
  
~*~  
  
I completely steered away from my original plans, but looking back, I don't really care. ^_^  
  
The initial title was "Baby". This is also the translation of "Akachan", according to my dictionary. I had to choose between that and "akago" which means the same thing, but akachan seemed to have more endearment (well, as if _chan_ wasn't a dead giveaway) and I used it. If anyone knows better, let me know.

_Reviewer Responses_:

**Maeve Riannon**: Oh, thank you for verifying that I'm NOT the only one who noticed that, ^_^ For a while I felt like such an obsessed freak... but if more people feel that way then I'm okay with it. :P  
  
**Animegirl**: Yeah, Saitou's amazing... he's definitely not my favourite character, but he's fun to work with, heh... too bad he disappeared at the end of the manga or I'd have more Saitou interaction in KnG.  
  
**Crystal17**: LOL, I'm little less than half done FF8, so I had trouble getting used to Leon! I thought it was amusing how Yuffie kept calling him Squall till he corrected her, ^_~ I'm a bit curious with all these people making Squall/Yuffie pairing fanfics... what the heck happened to Rinoa?! Oh well... have fun in FF8, even though it's freaking complicated beyond belief, O_o  
  
**Ariane**: Getting rather demanding aren't we, ^_~

**Shinji Ikari**: *eyes spinning* Well I'm glad _someone_ has fun fighting Sephiroth, O_o About the KH2 previews, I can never tell who's who in the videos since they're so short. It gets very frustrating. Perhaps I'm just not observant enough, but seeing how I've only seen the ending preview twice, I haven't really had a chance to focus on much. Just curious... what's the Non-Existent One? BTW thanks for the KH fic references. Good stuff, ^_^  
  
**animefanrk2k**: *ponders a "Rurouni Saitou" anime* Yeah... that would be kinda scary, ^_^

More coming soon!


	91. Chapter 91 Tsuki

Disclaimer: Not mine! *huff*

~*~

Kendo no Go  
In The Language of Kendo  
A Fanfic in 100 Chapters  
Akai Kitsune  
~*~  
91) Tsuki  
~*~

The moon was full that night, Kenshin remembered.

The moon was full on the night he walked the streets of Kyoto, stalking his prey until the moment he felt was best for his attack. It was full as he killed three men, two with ease, the last with the mildest of struggles, ending in a clash of swords, a spray of blood, and a shard of pain running down his left cheek. His first wound in an entire year of assassinations. The moon ran red with blood, blood he spilled.

The moon was full on the night he faced a man who became his greatest challenge for the first time, gazing into dark amber eyes, a cool look of challenge meeting the responding smirk of anticipated victory. That same victory which was never attained, yet never denied, either. The moon ran red with blood, the blood of his comrades and the blood of the enemies who fell by his sword.

The moon was full and bright when a young girl met him in the streets of Tokyo, shouting the name that was not truly his anymore, challenging him to face her and surrender to her anger for murders he was - for once - innocent of bringing about. There was blood spilled that night, but he made it in time to prevent that same girl's life from ending.

The moon was full on the night he faced a killer, a man who sought blood wherever he went, a cruel grin on his face and blood on his katana. It was full and red with anger, his anger, as a girl he cared dearly for lay so close to death, dying even as he fought to save her life by bringing about the man's death. So much blood would have fallen had not the young woman - _his_ woman, as the assassin had sneered - broken free and saved herself, saved _him_, at the same time.

The moon was full on the night he faced an old enemy from Kyoto, a man whose only aim was to kill him, to find out what sort of person he had become in the ten years since they last fought. A man who did everything he could to bring out and set loose the burning flames of a hitokiri from his eyes and his soul. A man who could have destroyed him merely by being destroyed that night. A man who made the girl - _his woman_ - cry out his name in terror.

The moon was full on the night he was carried back, bleeding and unconscious, from the mountain on which he fought a madman for the future of his country, and of the friends he had made over time. He never saw that moon - never knew the colour, even - but Kaoru told him that to her it seemed blue; blue, the colour of misery, of despair, which is how she felt until they appeared on the horizon, safe and alive. A blue moon, lighting the path towards home for their warriors, even though the night was stained red with his blood.

The moon was full on the night he stood with a girl - a young woman, _his_ woman - and took her hand, gently telling her of his feelings, the feelings he had kept inside for a very long time. It shone down upon them as she cried, tears falling down her cheeks, her hand frantically trying to brush them aside, and told him how happy she was. It glowed a soft blue-gray as he kissed her, carefully and cautiously, wanting to move slowly, to protect her innocence, although his heart told him he had acted _too_ slowly, that he had nearly lost her to his foolish insecurities. It seemed to smile as she responded to his touch, wrapped her arms around him, holding him so tightly that she would never let go, which suited him just fine. It seemed to understand that, when he whispered once more, "I love you," and she replied with the same words, he could not contain his joyful tears for anything.

The gentle moon, not red, not angry, not covered in the night's spilled blood, was the only witness as Himura Kenshin asked Kamiya Kaoru to become his wife.  
  
~*~  
  
Yare yare... this was tedious. It took a lot of manga-searching and anime-watching to get a hold of enough scenes where the moon is seen to make this decent. By the way, every single scene written here did have the full moon in it, except the last which we never actually see. I sort of want to do a response to this one, using scenes with the sun, but it doesn't really fit, ^_^;;  
  
"Tsuki" means moon, which was the original title of this chapter.

_Reviewer Responses_:  
  
**JML**: Thanks for giving me confirmation. It's nice to know for sure, ^_^  
  
**ChiisaiLammy**: Hm, well I can't exactly explain why I wrote the feelings Kaoru would have at Kenji's birth... I spent a lot of time reading the source novel, and sometimes talking to my mom, but otherwise I'm going by my own feelings and my interpretation of Kaoru. It really depends on what every person thinks of her I guess.  
  
**Ariane**: I read your rant about Seisouhen in your LJ... you had a lot of good points. I think Seisouhen would have been a really good alternate reality - same characters, different personalities.  
  
**DQBunny**: Howdy! ^_^ I'm always glad to help... especially if it helps you continue the fic you just started, ^_~  
  
**Animegirl**: Hmm... why did he cut his hair... I have no idea, :P I would think that perhaps since he's no longer a samurai, he wanted to distance himself from being a swordsman even more. Of course, there could be no intellectual reason at all. Maybe, like everyone, he just wanted to change! I'll bet Kaoru didn't like it much, though.  
  
**animefanrk2k**: Well spoken. That's the way I've been traveling thus far... I really want to go back and change the beginning now...  
  
**Maeve Riannon**: What? I've done lots of baby chapters! :P As for Megumi... well, she seems to get bashed a lot, and I've generally ignored her throughout this fic. So I thought I'd give her something, ^_^  
  
**Crystal17**: Maybe I meant last chapter as in previous, ^_^;; I don't remember. But I kind of like Rinoa. I was a die-hard Aeris-hater until I played Kingdom Hearts... now I kind of like her and am currently writing a KH fic with her and Cloud... weird. I thought that Cloud was pretty much in character in KH - if you think of him as the early-game Cloud. He was a lot like Squall then... mostly talking business and being a general grouch.  
  
**Shinji Ikari**: Oh, that would be the difference. I've never seen that; is there somewhere I can get it? Um... and I think I'll stay away from Final Mix and its scary bosses, ^_^ I still don't stand a chance against Sephiroth... regarding KnG, I will note once again that Seisouhen does not exist within it. Kenshin won't end up that way - I refuse to write it. I'm one of those authors who doesn't consider it to be canon since Watsuki-san did not write it. I'm also rather amused that every review you write ends up mentioning LSRV at some point... lol...  
  
**LadyShiin**: LOL, well have fun reaching all the way up to this chapter, ^_^  
  
**Eevee**: I've always wondered why Psycho-Cop gets so much attention... I was never a big fan, even though I thought he was pretty cool.

More coming soon!


	92. Chapter 92 Lessons

Disclaimer: Not mine! *huff*

~*~

Kendo no Go  
In The Language of Kendo  
A Fanfic in 100 Chapters  
Akai Kitsune  
~*~  
92) Lessons  
~*~

Kaoru learned a great deal about her new tenant in the first few weeks after Kenshin's arrival at the dojo. One thing she could remember was wondering why, exactly, he would trade in his katana for the reverse-blade sword.

An assassin shouldn't be afraid of killing. He shouldn't worry so much about the lives of the people around him, whether they seek his aid or his death. He shouldn't try so hard to prevent deadly injury to those screaming out for his blood.

But he did. Each and every day, every battle, the one who walked away bleeding - if he walked away at all - was him. And there was no blood on his sword.

_ 'It's so strange,'_ she mused, _'But I can't imagine it any other way.'_

She recalled that first month after their return from Kyoto, as Kenshin recovered from his injuries, when Yahiko had asked his mentor to spar with him. The boy had done it countless times before, given the same response each time: that Kenshin was no good with shinai - a feeble excuse, since he was competent with any weapon he touched, it seemed - and that sparring wouldn't really benefit them under those conditions. And they couldn't practice with real swords, since neither would ever dream of suggesting it.

_ 'So what made this time different?' _she wondered. _'Why did he say yes?'_

She watched them, day after day, leaping and charging at each other, Kenshin smiling gently as Yahiko lashed out at the opposing shinai. The boy was usually breathing hard moments into the session, worn out by Kenshin's seemingly endless vitality, but he always managed to keep up the pace, and the rurouni was exceptionally good at matching Yahiko's abilities for a fairer spar. Whether or not Yahiko noticed or appreciated it, Kenshin treated each spar like a battle with an equal opponent.

He also taught the boy, which Kaoru wasn't quite certain she approved of. But it wasn't technique he taught - as Yahiko had foolishly assumed - but simply common forms that all swordsmen must know. He taught Yahiko how to take a blow from a stronger opponent, how to recover from an attack from all angles, how to turn a weakness into an asset. He commented on the young student's posture, the energy he exerted in each attack, gently chiding each fault and praising each success in the manner typical of a close friend.

He sometimes let them forget he was a master swordsman, Kaoru thought ruefully, but when he wanted to, he made it clear as day.

When Kenji was old enough - something that was quite a controversial topic to his parents for a long time - Yahiko decided he should learn the basics of kendo.

"He's going to be part of the dojo, isn't he?" the teenager raised an eyebrow, balancing the boy on his shoulders. "So he'll have to know how the place is run, and what goes on inside it. Might as well start early, because you never know what'll happen." He peered at the child above him. "You want to learn kendo, ne Kenji?"

Kenji nodded enthusiastically. _'He probably doesn't know what he's getting into,'_ Kaoru sighed silently, trying very hard not to think about how young he was.

Kenshin was quiet for a few moments, watching the two boys together. Finally he smiled. "Well Yahiko, if you want to train him, as assistant master, that's your right. If you don't mind, I'll sit in to watch while Kaoru-dono makes lunch for us." He glanced sidelong at his wife. "Right, Kaoru?"

Kaoru sniffed at the casual announcement, but she had already volunteered to cook, anyway. "Fine, do whatever you like," she shrugged. "But you'd all better be careful!"

Yahiko winced. "Kenshin, you know how she gets when she's cooking with _that_ attitude..."

Kenshin chuckled as Kaoru disappeared down the hall. "Would you rather _she_ watch you teach?"

The boy merely shivered at the thought. "Fine, fine..."

They made their way to the dojo, where Yahiko found a shinai that was only a little bigger than Kenji ought to have. Kenshin settled down at the side wall as Yahiko showed Kenji how to hold the weapon, and demonstrated the first few forms. He couldn't help but feel a little swell of pride as his child fumbled through his lessons. As much pain as his own school had brought him, this was what he fought for.

_ 'The new generation of kendo... this play-fighting Kaoru has taught and developed for years...'_

_ 'This is it. This is how it should be.'_

"No no, Kenji, like this!" Yahiko swung his bokutou down towards the floor with perfect grace, having done the basic exercises for years already. Kenji eyed him skeptically for a moment, then mimicked the move as best he could, tapping the end of the shinai on the floor as it fell.

Yahiko brushed a hand through his hair. "Man... this is gonna take some work, kid."

"Less energy, Kenji, otherwise you'll waste it all too quickly," Kenshin commented, tilting his head to one side as he watched. "This lesson is about control, not form."

"He should learn form first," Yahiko retorted.

Kenshin smiled again. "But without control, the form is flawed."

Yahiko scowled, unable to counter. ".... Who's teaching the kid, anyway?" he finally muttered.

The former rurouni wore a thin-lipped, perfectly innocent expression that never failed to grate Yahiko's nerves. He turned back to his student, who was staring at him expectantly. "Well, try it again."

The shinai banged loudly against the floor.

"Again."

Bang.

"Again..."

Bang.

"... once more..."

Bang.

Yahiko closed his eyes. "Oi..."

"Lead him through it, slowly," the voice called again from the side.

Yahiko sighed, fighting his initial reaction to snap at the source of the advice, but he forced himself to remember that this _was_ Kenshin, and he was, as always, trying to help. He didn't speak, and stood behind Kenji, carefully placing his hands over the child's and showing him how the swing was done correctly. Kenji's eyes were wide, watching his arms move with Yahiko's, up and down until he was moving on his own.

Yahiko's hands dropped. "Good. Now try it by yourself."

The shinai fell again, and halted a scant inch away from the floor. Kenji looked up at his teacher expectantly.

The older boy's grin was wide. "Much better. Keep at it!"

Further away, Kenshin settled back into silence, violet eyes bright with pride.

They practiced until lunch, then afterwards, for the entire day until Yahiko finally returned home to Sano's old longhouse. He ruffled the boy's hair as he left, giving his little brother a gentle smirk.

"You're getting good, kid," he said without mockery, raising an eyebrow at Kenshin, as if he meant to speak but would not. Kenshin simply nodded.

"Thanks, Yahiko-niichan," Kenji's face was glowing with joy, still grasping the shinai in sore, reddened hands. "I had a lot of fun!"

"Enough fun for today, I'm afraid," Kaoru announced as Yahiko passed through the gate. "Early to bed for you."

"Noooo, kaasan-!"

"I'll take him, Kaoru," Kenshin suddenly volunteered, as Kaoru began to argue with Kenji's objection. With one sweep he picked up his son and placed him on his shoulders, much like Yahiko had done earlier. Kenji's cries transformed abruptly into a shriek of delight, and the two of them headed for his room.

"Tousan?" Kenji asked quietly as Kenshin helped him dress for bed, eyes wide in curiousity.

"Yes, Kenji?"

Kenji looked at his toes for a moment. "How come you don't teach me how to fight?"

Kenshin halted, surprised. "Don't you like Yahiko's lessons?"

The child nodded eagerly. "Yeah, but... don't you know more than Yahiko-niichan? You were telling him what to do today."

"Just helping," Kenshin corrected carefully, leading his son towards the bed. "Only suggesting a little. That's what an observer is there for, sometimes."

"Like when kaasan watches Yahiko-niichan teach other people?"

"Exactly," Kenshin smiled. "And she speaks up if he needs help, doesn't she."

"Yeah..." Kenji looked up as he cuddled into the blankets. "So you don't know more?"

Kenshin thought about this for a long time. Finally, he shrugged. "Yahiko still has much to learn, just like you, but he is a very good teacher. You're learning kaasan's style, the Kamiya Kasshin school. I don't know how to teach it, so I suppose you could say that yes, in the technique of Kamiya Kasshin, Yahiko knows much more than I do."

Kenji furrowed his brow thoughtfully. "Oh."

His father watched him for a long time, then squeezed Kenji's hand, kissing his forehead. "Goodnight, Kenji."

"Night, tousan..."

Kenshin stood, moving towards the hall. He hesitated at the doorway, glancing back in at his small son. The boy smiled sleepily at him, waving one last time.

_ 'Let him remember this,'_ he thought suddenly, his hand rising to wave in response. _'In the years to come, when life is harder, when he is older, if ever he finds a darkness in his heart that resembles anything that I felt when I was young...'_

_ 'Let him remember this moment. Let him remember how much I love my son.'_

_ '... remember this...'_  
  
~*~  
  
*melts* The ending was a little different than the original outline, but then again, the outline was too close to the source novel anyway, ^_^;; I prefer this.  
  
You know, it's odd... originally this was going to be a fic focusing on Kaoru's point of view, but I've really changed it to focus on Kenshin and Kenji... oh well. Whatever fits the chapter, I guess.  
  
The original title of this chapter was "Scissors". I had trouble with this title, since I had already done a chapter called "Sword", so it took a little more thought than usual, ^_^ The ending scene was inspired by a shot in "Yahiko's Sakabatou", where Yahiko is briefly shown teaching Kenji. I guessed his age to be a few years old then, so the timeline still fits. 

_Reviewer Responses_:  
  
**DQBunny**: Symbolism is my friend, ^_^ *gives symbolism a cookie*  
  
**animefanrk2k**: Yeah I was sort of puzzled my that scene... it seemed out of character for me because in two different scenes, he was pretty confident that Shura would both spare him and kill him. Why wouldn't he make up his mind? I would have thought Kenshin would be planning some escape. But that's just me...  
  
**Maeve Riannon**: A sudden thought came to mind, after I read that... makes me wonder what time of day Kenji was born, ^_~  
  
**Crystal17**: Cloud is just callous. That's part of his charm, ^_^ (er, if that makes any sense) I guess it just seems all the more sweet that he falls for Aeris... I feel badly for Tifa though. She never gets a break.  
  
**Ariane**: Gee, I never would've guessed. ^_~ Yeah, I myself am uneasy about doing a wedding scene. It worries me, but it would be cool, wouldn't it, ^_^  
  
**Animegirl**: LOL! You have a hermit crab? That's cool. Yeah, it's fun (sometimes really annoying though) to notice these silly little details. They make great fics but they stay in your head and never go away, O_o  
  
**Aimi-chan**: Well don't forget, I have plans for a hopeful sequel, ^_~  
  
**glr1114**: You did indeed. It's currently in the planning stages (though chapter 1 is sort of written) and will be posted when Kendo no Go is finished. After a short break, I mean...

More coming soon!


	93. Chapter 93 Nodoka

Disclaimer: Not mine! *huff*

~*~

Kendo no Go  
In The Language of Kendo  
A Fanfic in 100 Chapters  
Akai Kitsune  
~*~  
93) Nodoka  
~*~

The dojo was quiet.

Perfect.

Kaoru peered down at the clutter of papers before her, angry letters glaring their unappreciated requirements back at her. It was that time of the month again.

"Bills, bills, bills," she muttered to herself, resting her chin on her palm in frustration. "Don't we ever get mail anymore?!"

Logically, she knew it was so. Just the other day she received a letter from Misao. And before that, Tae sent a message on her brief vacation to Kyushu. And before that...

But right now, it was bills.

Thankfully, Kenshin and Kenji were out exploring the streets of Tokyo for groceries. Her husband had seen the look she wore early that morning and opted for a day's outing, perhaps visiting the riverside afterwards and trying to catch a few fish for dinner. Surely that would cheer her up.

Kaoru had mumbled something about making certain of it, and moved to a quieter room to work.

So there she was, sitting among the scattered sheets of government policies and tax letters, property values and income requests, meditating silently to prepare herself for what was to come.

So quiet... so peaceful...

There was a sudden knock at the door.

"Um... Kaoru-dono? I just thought I'd let you know that Kenji and I had to come back. It's raining, you see, and I didn't want the salt we bought to spoil... but we'll try to be as quiet as we can, won't we?"

"Hai!" her son's voice piped up from behind the shoji.

"Fine," she responded, eyes still clenched shut. It wasn't so bad. Kenshin was always fairly quiet, and if he could keep Kenji that way, it _would_ be fine.

Quiet...

"Okaasan, have you seen the kitty? I can't find her anywhere. Is she with you?"

Slowly, her eyes crept open. The cat stared at her from across the room, her gaze challenging and pleading at the same time.

"No, Kenji," she lied gently, closing her eyes again. "Maybe she's wandering again. Come back later."

She heard his footsteps as he returned to the kitchen to receive Kenshin's soft scolding.

Quiet...

Finally she felt ready. Looking down at the waiting paper on the small table before her, she picked up the first - her least favourite, to get it done and over with - and began to read.

"Kaoru? I hate to bother you but where did you put the soya sauce?"

"In the left-side cupboard," she mumbled absently, chewing on a fingernail.

Quiet, quiet, _quiet_...

"Kaasan, tousan wants to know if you want spiced rice for supper, or... um... just salted."

"Salted," she replied in a tight voice. _I want quiet_.

Outside, the crickets began to chirp.

"Koishii, dinner's almost ready. Are you in the mood for tea, or-"

"Kenshin," she interrupted sharply, getting to her feet and storming over to the shoji, sliding it open to meet his startled eyes, "You told me you'd be _quiet_!"

She pushed the door shut before she could see the guilty look enter his gaze, returning to her work with a soft huff. She picked up the ink brush once more, tapping it against the table a few times to get her attention back to the pages lying before her.

Quiet. Oh sweet, sweet quiet.

A soft rapping on the shoji echoed her pen, and she rolled her eyes, teeth clenched tightly. "Ken-"

"Okaasan," Kenji's voice broke through her anger, softer than a whisper, "We'll be very, very quiet now and we won't bug you ever again. Okay?"

_Ever again._

_Ever._

"Oh, Kenji," Kaoru murmured, rising to her feet again. She knelt beside the shoji and slid it open, meeting her small son's stricken gaze. "Kenji, kaasan will never be bothered by you. Never. I promise."

"Really?"

She felt tears in her eyes, and she pulled him into a fierce embrace. "Really..."

Her gaze lifted to meet Kenshin's face, as he waited in the doorway to the dining area. He mouthed a silent, _"I'm sorry"_, that same guilty expression he always wore when something was his fault and yet it wasn't. She wanted to laugh at him, if she wasn't busy crying.

"Come on now," she said instead, lifting Kenji into her arms and brushing away her tears so he wouldn't question them, "Let's go have supper together."

"But..." he peered past her shoulder, worried. "You're working."

"I can do it later!" she insisted, a wide smile on her face. Slowly, he smiled back, and she carried him into the dining room.

Later - much later, when Kenji was asleep, and Kenshin was mending their son's gi quietly on the porch - she _did_ finish her work. By lamplight, guided by the symphony of the crickets and the gentle peace of the night, she completed everything she intended to do without any interruptions or trouble.

And she smiled afterwards, something she had never done before with that particularly distasteful job. Kenshin marveled at the strange effect a child had on her temper, but he knew it was really his fault she had been angry, so he wasn't about to comment on it.

Wisely, he kept his mouth shut.  
  
~*~  
  
Kind of a weird chapter. It was inspired by the years-long memory of my dad going over income tax information. I remember the first time I had to do that... ugh, I was ready to tear out my hair. I can imagine (just barely) what Kaoru must have gone through, owning a business _and_ a home as well as taking care of the family finances. She's bound to have a few "tax days" as I like to call them, ^_^ Poor girl.  
  
The original title was "Quiet". This one was a pain to think of. "Nodoka" means peaceful, quiet, etc. and nothing else really fit, so I went with it. I had the intro to episode 2 echoing in my head during the whole thing, ^_^  
  
Written to the sirens of _NYPD Blue_ in the background. I have no idea why. 

_Reviewer Responses_:  
  
**Ariane**: Haha, I'm glad you feel that way... little details like that have always been one of my favourite parts of writing.  
  
**Maeve Riannon**: Well, from Seisouhen I noticed subtle little things about Kenji that reminded me of Kenshin... he wasn't such a jerk of course, ^_^;; but it was little things. So I wanted to keep that in mind as I wrote.  
  
**April-san**: That's Kenshin for you. Always so blunt, just like Megumi says in the Jinchuu arc... but I'm glad I met my purpose for that chapter... I was unsure about that.  
  
**Crystal17**: *starts the Tifa Lockheart fanclub* Dude, you liked Red XIII too? High five! ^_^ My team was always Cloud, Red, and Tifa. At least until Cloud and Tifa left me for a while, O_o I was panicking at that point because all the other characters were pretty weak, lol... but yes, Vincent is awesome too.  
  
**Aimi-chan**: The reason I stop at 100 in this fic is because it was inspired by a novel that only has 100 chapters. The sequel will be a tentative 141 chapters, so hopefully my muse will behave that long, ^_^ As for the last one... I tell no secrets!  
  
**LadyShiin**: Hey, you caught up! High five. Glad you liked it.  
  
**Lucrecia LeVrai**: Your review amused me to no end, ^_^ Thanks for all your encouragement. Have you noticed all my notes regarding a possible sequel? That one would have a full 141 chapters - no joke. I'm not entirely certain of it just yet but it's looking like a pretty sure thing. So keep your eyes open even after KnG is done, ^_~  
  
**Animegirl**: Yeah, I was always puzzling over the reasons for the Kenshin-Yahiko daily spar in the Jinchuu arc... I guess Kenshin finally figured he wasn't going anywhere so he may as well help out, ^_^  
  
**animefanrk2k**: Oh, good to hear. I always worry about Yahiko - that attitude is difficult to recreate in a fanfic. I often wonder how on earth Watsuki-san could write so many different characters so _well_.  
  
**DQBunny**: Hehe, no trouble. It's an inspiring book though, isn't it! I would really, _really_ encourage you to pick up "In the Language of Love". From the moment I started reading it I was inspired to write Kendo no Go, and I think it might just help you out too.

More coming soon!


	94. Chapter 94 Midori

Disclaimer: Not mine! *huff*

~*~

Kendo no Go  
In The Language of Kendo  
A Fanfic in 100 Chapters  
Akai Kitsune  
~*~  
94) Midori  
~*~

The colour of miso soup, decorated with herbs and perfect bobbing squares of tofu, which the one you love has worked hard to create for you, placed in your bowl and served with a bright smile. The colour of his perfect meals, and the dry, aching thought that enters your mind each time you grasp the knife or the spoon in your own hand: _Let it be like his_...

The colour of the forest in which you left the man you love, to train and grow stronger, to perhaps gain a greater chance of surviving the forthcoming battle. The colour of your eyes as the forest's dark tones glimmer within their depths, the stormy emotions of fear, worry, anger, and sorrow ruining the joy you felt at seeing him again. The colour of pain, of hope, mingling together in a strange, uneven blend in your heart.

The colour of the terrain you watch with him as you stand on the back of the train, heading back to your dojo, back home. Back to _his_ home, whether he wants it or not - but he does, he finally admits that he does, that your home is also his, and it is the first home he has ever had since he began his lonely wandering. The colour of the grass, flowing up and down like a river of feathers beside you, but not the colour of your joy, for that is stronger, purer, less jaded.

The colour of the eyes of your good friend, strange and half-hidden by her ever-present cheerfulness, as she watches you with your husband each and every time she visits you or you visit her. The colour of her pain, her quiet envy, seeing what you have fought hard and finally won, knowing it is far beyond her reach. The colour of her eyes, hiding behind the shining blue so near to your own, flickering with hope as you encourage her, urge her to try again, and again, and never stop trying until the man she loves so much turns away from his coldness and solitude and looks instead to her for comfort. The colour of your grief, as your heart aches for them, for the happiness that is so close yet somehow beyond their reach.

The colour of the gi you buy for your husband, as a gift and an apology for an argument you began the day before - even though you won. A beautiful, silken gi that was probably too expensive for him, something he would assuredly say, but so beautiful that you didn't care, and he ought not care either. The colour of the gi that looks even more beautiful when he wears it for the first time, pulling it over his hakama and underkimono to check its size, and his hair settles around his shoulders like a halo of red, and you think to yourself for the millionth time how lucky you are to have such a handsome man as your husband, your lover, your soulmate. The colour of your fears, your old feelings of disatisfaction, stirring like a snake in your heart, but falling silent as you ignore them, banishing them to the far corner of your mind, for you no longer need those feelings.

The colour of prosperity. The dojo is blooming, like a flower in springtime. You are happy. Your family is happy.  
  
Life is good.  
  
~*~  
  
Yaaaaay, a happy chapter! Well, sort of. Happy ending, I guess.  
  
Kudos yet again to Calger-san for allowing me to use the green silk gi idea. It's appeared so many times in fanfics or art that I almost forgot it's not canon! But it was such a lovely idea, and it fit in just perfectly.  
  
The original title (and translation of mine) is "Green". A parallel to the other colour-chapters. This is the conclusion of those chapters. It suddenly occurs to me that "Kuroi" didn't really fit the cycle... oh well. Heh...

_Reviewer Responses_:

**Maeve Riannon**: Actually, to be honest, this will be the first long story I'll have ever written and actually finished. *sweatdrop* As for Kenshin, he's the only character I never have trouble with. It's all the others that give me problems, ^_^;;  
  
**Lucrecia LeVrai**: You're not missing anything exciting with the taxes, trust me. =/ It really is annoying, and my tax forms are really basic compared to any adult/home-owner. By the way - I OBJECT! I like Cloud a hundred times better than Squall. Well, maybe not that much. But still, his character was much nicer, ^_^ Squall is just a jerk. All the time. (At least where I am... anyway...) Maybe I just have an affinity for blond hair.  
  
**EEevee**: O_O TWICE?! What a rip. You didn't get your money back or anthing??  
  
**Animegirl**: Hehe, thanks. Yes, sequel more-or-less in the works. I'll be feeding the muse never-ending streams of chocolate to keep her working...  
  
**ChiisaiLammy**: Actually, that was intentional. Not every fight can be settled with an "I'm sorry *kiss kiss*". ^_^  
  
DQBunny: LOL. Overdue fees can sneak up on you. I had to renew the book three times before I finally rboke down and bought it - just for the sake of the fic! The things I do for you guys... :P But trust me, it was worth it...  
  
**Elen**: That's some marathon-! Hehe. Well considering how quickly the ideas were flowing, it really isn't as difficult as it looks... well, most of the time, anyway.  
  
**Crystal17**: LOL. I never used Barret once I got out of Midgar... I agree though, Sephiroth should be part of the team. Even though he's the bad guy, ^_^;; But he made Cloud look so incompetant... *sigh* Oh well.  
  
**haku baikou**: Yes, it's a horrible sin. You are forever cursed. (kidding, kidding.) Reading out of order doesn't really make it confusing, unless you start at the end then go backwards, ^_^;;  
  
**animefanrk2k**: True. Since he created them, Watsuki-san also had the liberty to do whatever he pleased with them, ^_^  
  
**Aimi-chan**: Ack, hints, now? Okay, well maybe I can say one thing... the sequel will contain a few new characters and will be about the Himura family after a few more years have passed, and how Kenshin and Kaoru handle their marriage in the distant future. I like to call them "The Challenge Years"...  
  
**Ariane**: *whistles innocently*  


More coming soon!


	95. Chapter 95 Letter

Disclaimer: Not mine! *huff*

~*~

Kendo no Go  
In The Language of Kendo  
A Fanfic in 100 Chapters  
Akai Kitsune  
~*~  
95) Letter  
~*~

_Dear Misao,  
_

_It's been a while, ne? I'm sorry I haven't written recently but life has a way of pushing me around sometimes. I'm sure you can understand, since you yourself run a place as busy as the Aoiya. How is business, by the way? Are you still having trouble with that rude customer you mentioned in your last letter? I hope things are going well and no one is causing problems.  
_

_Give my regards to Okina-san and the others. I miss you all and I hope to visit sometime soon. We haven't seen each other in so long! I suppose it comes from growing up, doesn't it. It gets harder to keep in touch when we lead such busy lives.  
_

_Has Kenshin stopped by? He's been traveling a lot lately, doing odd jobs for the police chief. Uramura-san is really relying on Kenshin, just like in the past. I hope the jobs aren't very similar though. He hasn't come back injured yet, so it seems he's doing well. He never talks about these strange jobs of his, but you know Kenshin! He hates to make people worry about him, especially me. I just wish he'd trust me more. He's been gone for a few days now and I'm not sure when he'll be home. Hopefully soon, or he'll get an earful.  
_

_Kenji has grown so big since you last saw him! He's now four years old, though I'm sure you knew that, and I can barely believe how he'd doing. He talks a lot these days, and he remembers you from the last time you visited. Unfortunately Yahiko has taught him a lot of nicknames, so don't be too upset if he mentions "weasel-girl" when he sees you. I'm trying to teach him not to say it, but you know how he loves to imitate his Yahiko-niichan. I have a strong feeling this will be a hard phase to grow out of. Even Kenshin can't do anything about it, and I'm sure it frustrates him a little.  
_

_How are things with Aoshi? Is he still traveling a lot as well? Kenshin mentioned it when he returned from Kyoto this past spring, after visiting Tomoe-san's grave. He was disappointed that he hadn't been able to talk with Aoshi, but he was glad to see you all. I hope Aoshi came back safely and that you're doing well.  
_

_I'm sorry if I upset you with any comments in my last letter. I didn't mean to joke about something you take so seriously, and it was silly of me to think you would. I know you're trying your best to help Aoshi settle down, and I hope you still trust me enough to tell me about it. Men like Aoshi and Kenshin are hard to find and even harder to understand, and I'll warn you now, you'll never fully understand him. But it is possible to win him over in the end, and I know Aoshi cares dearly for you. You just have to make sure he knows that what he wants and what you want can be the same thing. Don't try so hard to cheer him up, because if things work out right, just being with you will be enough to make him smile. I know it's hard, and it takes so long, but be patient.  
_

_Speaking of which, I'm trying my best to be patient with my husband, but I'm not sure how far I can go with this. I mentioned to him once that he should find something to do with his time besides chores, and he immediately thought he should get a more permanent job. I was so surprised, since he'd never spoken of it before. That's not even what I meant! The dojo is making enough money for us to get by, even with the extra expenses that Kenji is causing us since he started his growth spurt, but I think Kenshin is starting to worry. It's funny though, since it's usually me worrying about money. He did speak to Uramura-san about it, and I suspect he sent a letter to Yamagata-san as well. It's hard to say, because Kenshin refused to take a job in the army before, so why should he ask for it now? Maybe I'm just thinking too much about it. Should I worry? I really don't know what to do.  
_

_He even said he could help in cases with the Keishichou, which I found hard to believe. It's a good thing Saitou moved to Hokkaido a few years ago. Could you imagine Kenshin and Saitou working together! It worked out all right during the Shishio and Enishi battles, but a day-by-day job... it really makes me nervous to think about it. But maybe working with the police wouldn't be so bad. Kenshin could at least try to make them less corrupt. That was always a big problem in the past.  
_

_I was thinking that maybe Kenshin senses what I've been feeling lately - that it's time we had more children. Kenji is certainly a handful, but I would love to have a little girl, too. My parents always had problems with having children, so the fact that I was able to have a baby is really a miracle for me. For a long time I was worried I would have the same trouble. Now that I know I can have children, I want to give Kenji a little brother or sister so he doesn't grow up an only child like I did. I asked Kenshin about it, innocently enough so he wouldn't suspect anything, and he said that he liked the idea. I think he had brothers or sisters in the past, but he doesn't talk about it much so it's hard to tell. I was going to ask but he seemed uncomfortable about it. Someday I hope he'll tell me, but for now I'll wait for him.  
_

_It seems like that's all we ever do with men: wait for them to tell us things! It's hard, but I really think they'd be in trouble without us. At least, that's what I tell myself sometimes. I feel better knowing I have a purpose, even though I know that Kenshin makes me happier than anything or anyone else could. I'm sure you feel the same way.  
_

_Ah! I didn't mean for this to be so long! Sorry for rambling a little. I hope we can arrange for a visit sometime, because I'd love to see you again, and so would Kenji. If Kenshin drops by when he's near Kyoto, give him a good scolding and tell him to come home!  
_

_Your friend,_

_ - Kamiya Kaoru_

~*~

This chapter and the one from the source novel were completely different, but to be honest, I had no other ideas. This one kept me on hiatus for about two weeks, and it was only the fact that I had written ahead that kept me from not updating frequently. I suddenly thought of the idea of Kaoru writing to Misao for some reason, and I thought I'd go with it. I rambled a little but since it _is_ a letter, that's allowed. Heh...

This chapter carries a fair bit of spoilers for the sequel, ^_~ See if you can find them all.  
  
The original title was "Salt".

_Reviewer Responses:_

**Wistful-Eyes**: Interesting how I get people poking more for LSRV so often at this fic. It's kind of funny... and the ending will probably make me feel relieved and sad at the same time. It's just something that can't be helped.

**Calger459**: Heh, well my muse doesn't seem to like LSRV anymore - but I'll get her back in the loop soon enough. I think I just really needed a break, so that's what I'm doing. I'll be saying this a lot for a while, unfortunately. And what are you waiting for? Hurry up and start writing again! There's always time, ^_~ Even if it's just five minutes a day.

**Aimi-chan**: Actually, I started writing the sequel this morning, at least a little. I get the feeling it'll come almost as quickly as Kendo did.

**Maeve Riannon**: Unusual? Well , Watsuki-san liked to describe Kaoru as "dressing herself up" throughout the manga, so the idea of her dressing up Kenshin for once was nice.

**DQBunny**: *whistles innocently* Prism? Prism? What's that? *smile* I think I mentioned that somewhere...

**EEevee**: LOL. Reviews don't have to be constructive if they're fun.

**animefanrk2k**: That's actually a good point. The nice thing about Kaoru is that she's innocent, but she's also pretty smart... good balance, ^_^  
  
**ChiisaiLammy**: I felt badly for leaving Misao & the Kyoto gang out of it, even if it was originally supposed to be a K&K fic... oh well. Cameos are okay, ^_^  
  
**Crystal17**: Haha, I loved that. Cloud attacks - "Miss"... Sephiroth - 1000+ damage... lol... that was great, ^_^ Poor Cloud. As for fanart, you can look back at I think around chapter 17 or something... Calger-san painted a pic of Kenshin in the silk green gi and the link should still be there.  


More coming soon!


	96. Chapter 96 Family

Disclaimer: Not mine! *huff*

~*~

Kendo no Go  
In The Language of Kendo  
A Fanfic in 100 Chapters  
Akai Kitsune  
~*~  
96) Family  
~*~

Kaoru is standing in the streets of Tokyo, now walking, moving through the crowds around her. She carries a small bag of money, and is listening to the soft jingle as she walks, wary of possible thieves who might wish to pocket it themselves. She is alone.

She realizes, as she is walking, that this is a dream, for even as she walks alone, Kenshin is there beside her, Kenji on his shoulders, holding her hand and smiling in the gentle breeze. None of them speak.

Indeed, no one is speaking, even amongst all the people who bustle about in the great assembly of the market. It is like a moving photograph, silent, gray, full of questions and no answers.

The day is dark and damp, promising rain, or snow, perhaps. The wind is soft, yet cold, but Kaoru and her family do not seem to feel it. She is warm, she knows, with her hand enclosed in her husband's. She is _safe_.

She is treating them to dinner - even dessert! - for the housework they managed to do that afternoon. They cleaned the whole house, Kenji had exclaimed, his face bright and proud, even the dojo, which was Yahiko's job. Kaoru had hugged him, smiling, and promised to buy him a wonderful dinner for all his hard work.

She knows this must have happened, although it did not seem to happen in the dream. Her dream began in the streets, walking, alone. Yet not.

They are an ordinary family, walking on an ordinary day, and nothing is happening. Nothing is going dramatically wrong. Kenshin is not fighting, or dying, or leaving her. She is not crying, or waiting for him, or pretending to smile for the sake of her son. The same son is also not crying, not yelling, not hating anyone, especially not the father he clings to so happily. It is a dream, so everything is perfect.

As they cross the street, coming closer to the new restaurant she had promised Tae she'd visit one day - to test them, to discover the secrets of the competition in order to protect her business - she sees Tomoe, standing quietly in the rain - when had it begun to rain? - her eyes gazing forward into the throngs of people who pass her by. She is looking for something.

Kaoru has no idea - _no_ idea whatsoever - how she knows it is Tomoe. It might not be; it might be simply a representation of what Tomoe looks like in her mind, although when Kenshin first told her about the woman, she could not imagine her appearance. All she knew was that the woman was beautiful.

She waves, then, her hand cutting through the air to acknowledge the existence of the older - no, younger, she realizes, remembering that Tomoe had died when she was eighteen, and Kaoru herself was already over twenty - woman, mouthing friendly words of invitation. Surely Tomoe would appreciate a nice, warm meal after being dead for over fifteen years.

Kenshin waves as well, as does Kenji, following his father's example, even if he doesn't know the woman. He says nothing, though; no words to his past wife, no typical apologies for appearing before her with his perfect family, in his perfect life. He remains silent, a small smile on his face. Kaoru knows it is a dream, and is further persuaded, because despite the impossibility of the situation, she cannot imagine her husband doing such a thing.

Tomoe does nothing. She gazes at them, her dark eyes taking in each person, each smile, each waving hand in the sky. She doesn't move, simply watches them through the gentle fall of water. A firefly rests on her shoulder, unnoticed and inconspicuous. After a long moment she turns away, disappearing into the crowds, the rain transforming into a gentle mist which echoes her silent departure.

They continue on their way, letting the world pass them by. She has had this dream before, Kaoru thinks to herself, in an infinite number of variations. It could be rain, or snow, which is light or heavy. The stores are full, or they might be empty and vacant. Sometimes there is no firefly, but a cricket or a dove resting on Tomoe's shoulder. Sometimes Tomoe is not there at all. The streets are crowded; the streets are empty. Kenji is on Kenshin's shoulders, or in her arms, or on the ground. Kenshin holds her hand, then his arm is around her. They are all happy; they are all gloomy in the miserable weather.

Kenshin is smiling. Kenshin is brooding.

Kaoru is smiling. Kaoru is venting.

Kenji is smiling. Kenji is crying.

There are endless possibilities, each minute detail of the dream altering to create a whole different situation. She wonders how long it might take her to watch every single unique dream in it's entirety. For every dream, once they reach the restaurant which does not exist, ends before they can enter their destination.

They never go home, she thinks to herself, and dreads her awakening every time.

But every night, every dream, every time they walk, or jog, or run through those mysterious streets of Tokyo, or Yokohama, or Kyoto, searching for a restaurant, or an inn, or a graveyard, they are all together. In the dream, she is alone, but her family is there, right there, beside her.  
  
~*~  
  
Woo hoo for dream sequences, ^_^ That was fun, even if it got a little confusing. Please excuse the change of tense, but this is not only intentional, but more effective. Annoying to write, though. Ugh. Never again.  
  
The original title of this chapter was "Street". There are a lot of similarities, but I love the flow of the original, so you'll have to excuse me this time. It just fit too well, ^_^  
  
The original title was "Salt".

_Reviewer Responses:_

**LadyShiin**: I hope everyone will be satisfied with the ending... I'm not too sure... I mean, it looks right now, but that's just me, ^_^;;  
  
**Crystal17**: Poor Cloud. *pats him on the head and nearly gets impaled by the spikes* Well at least he redeemed himself at the end.  
  
**Animegirl**: Glad my chapters keep people happy, ^_^ I've tried to fix that as the fic goes on. I think it's finally working.  
  
**April-san**: Well with Aoshi, I was following Okina's words when he was talking to Kenshin at the end of Kyoto... he said Aoshi needed to rest until he started moving again. I wasn't sure what that meant, but I guess he needed some time to think on his own.  
  
**animefanrk2k**: Same here, but that's what sequels are for. Actually, I'm wondering if I'm going to regret it... heh, but I sure didn't regret Kendo, so it'll probably turn out okay.  
  
**Maeve Riannon**: LOL, that's true. And uh... well... *whistles innocently* (Gah, I need doing that. It might make people suspect something.)  
  
**Chibilover2000**: Wow, you just plowed through the thing, didn't you, ^_^ 95 chapters wasn't as hard as it seems, but it helped to have a source novel to help me with ideas. As far as Kenshin's scars go - that's just common sense. No one could have healed perfectly with wounds like Kenshin had. I still have a papercut scar from six years ago for heaven's sakes. The human body just isn't built for perfection, ^_^;; I figured that the animators didn't have time to draw every little scar that he got. Just the important one had to be shown.  
  
**Ariane**: Just out to surprise you, ^_~ Actually I'm trying to make up for all those days I missed when I could have updated, I guess. As for Misao, she _ does_ have blue eyes - read the chapter more closely. I mention that. The green is "green with envy", in a sense.  
  
**EEevee**: High five for ramblers! And I think younger siblings would do it for Kenji. Having a dad who sticks around also helps, ^_^;;  
  
**Aimi-chan**: Some of those theories were correct, ^_~ One other is speculative. I'm not sure about the last. As for the sequel, I have three chapters complete, but I won't begin posting until I have the entire fic planned out more or less.  


More coming soon!


	97. Chapter 97 Master

Disclaimer: Not mine! *huff*

~*~

Kendo no Go  
In The Language of Kendo  
A Fanfic in 100 Chapters  
Akai Kitsune  
~*~  
97) Master  
~*~

There had been but two masters in Kenshin's life; two men from which he was given instructions and orders, some he followed willingly and some not. He carried no small amount of respect and admiration for each of these men, quietly and unspoken.

The first was, of course, his teacher of swordsmanship, the great master of Hiten Mitsurugi. Hiko Seijurou may have been loud; he may have been - rather, _was_ for a fact - mocking; he may have done his best at times to make his stupid apprentice's life a living hell, but he was _very_ good at what he did. His skills were rivaled by no one, his wit as sharp as his sword and tempered by the saya of cool-headed discretion. He was wise in his own way, careful of the world and selective of his use of the Mitsurugi technique.

Kenshin had never understood this restraint, in his foolhardy, reckless thoughts that only action would change the world, and sitting around on a mountain making pots and poking fun at ignorant, dreaming students wasn't going to cut it. At fourteen, he had been full of disillusioned adolescence, unable to comprehend the true meaning of his school. Hiko tried to talk him out of it, but he would not be deterred; which, in turn, sent him into the hands of the second man.

Katsura Kogoro was a regal, commanding figure, sensible, calm and collected in nearly every situation he was presented with. He seemed to know how to deal with everyone, and acted as a living example of how a proper samurai of Kyoto should act. Kenshin found himself following the older man's lead on more than one occasion, obeying his commands without question, trusting him to make the decisions that would help to change the era they lived in. He knew what a great asset Kenshin was to the Ishin Shishi, and he never hesitated to tell the young hitokiri. His voice, whether full of confidence or compassion, was always clear as his vision of what the future should hold for them all. Kenshin knew he would have followed Katsura's orders anywhere.

Such was his mistake, he often thought, regretting his life as an assassin, even as he told himself that it must have done _some_ good. Swords did not make the era, but he liked to think he had accomplished something in his contribution to the war. The alternative was far too painful to consider.

These two men had helped to change his life, to mold him into the man he eventually became. He was regretful that he had parted badly with both of them - one as an obnoxious, argumentative boy, the other as a cold-voiced, dark-eyed hitokiri.

Even after living alone for so long as his own master, Kenshin found that his kenjutsu teacher was still able to make him feel like the petulant little boy he had been before he left. Hiko was good at making himself seem far greater than others. It was intolerable, yet inevitable trait possessed by the man.

It was reassuring, though, to know that part of him was still there, still alive, and not buried beneath years of blood, and death, and pain. Hitokiri Battousai was still able to look his master in the eye and scowl at the unfairness of his taunts.

_ 'Hitokiri Battousai might have - at some point in time - tried to take Hiko Seijurou's head off if that child did not yet live.'_

_ 'I... I feared that sort of confrontation, all through the Bakumatsu...'_

_ 'I remember...'_

Although it was an irrational impossibility - Hiko would never have joined the chaos he had forbidden his student from entering, no matter how tempting the sides might appear - Kenshin could recall a certain tightness in his throat whenever he received a black envelope.

Not just because he knew it meant another sleepless night...

Not just because he knew it meant another life on his hands, another face in his nightmares...

_ '... because...'_

He feared that one day, he would recognize the name on the envelope, know the face of the man he was to kill.

"If I knew more about the target-"

What would he have done, then, he wondered.

"-I would have doubts..."

Doubts came regardless, but duty was always able to overshadow such weak thoughts. He was terribly strong-willed, and once he set his mind to do something, it was as good as done. The combination of past knowledge and childish stubbornness attributed to that.

_ 'I suppose I have never been my own master, then...'_

As a child, his masters were the slave traders.

As a boy, his master was an undefeated swordsman.

As a teenager, his master was the leader of a great and unshakable vision.

As a man, his master was...

_ '... was...'_

_ 'I don't know.'_

_ 'I gave my life to the world, to the winding road before me, following without visions, without dreams, without answers.'_

_ 'My master was...'_

_ 'I followed the road with only three things.'_

_ 'My sword...'_

_ 'My memories...'_

_ '... and...'_

A question, buried deep in his heart, forever rooted to his soul.

_ 'I have run so many times, but...'_

_ 'It all comes back to this...'_

_ "As long as these hands can reach them..."_

_ 'And I have come so close...'_

_ "... I won't allow anyone to die."_

As a man, his master was his vow.

_ " 'To use the sword and heart in fulfilling my struggling life' is the answer that I have discovered!"_

And a promise...

_ 'And I'll keep it. I'll keep it... forever...'_  
  
~*~  
  
Woo. This one took forever to do... I kept getting stuck at the end. *goes to have a nap*  
  
This was inspired by a fic I once read in which Hiko and Katsura meet by chance. It was an interesting concept and it really made me think about the two who had the greatest impact on Kenshin in his youth. Who wrote that?! I can't remember for the life of me...  
  
People keep telling me that Kenshin's life as a slave didn't have a great contribution to who he became, but I suppose it's a matter of personal opinion. I think that such an experience would definitely affect the sort of person he became later... after all, it was the deaths of the three slave girls which made him want to join in the Bakumatsu...  
  
The original title of this chapter was "King".

_Reviewer Responses:_

**April-san: **Ooh, now that makes me want to write it. But I've already read a few Kaoru/Tomoe interaction fics, so I would hate to try and recreate that...**  
  
Wistful-Eyes: **Those are just changes that occur in the different dream variations. She's thinking about all the changes that happen when she has the dream.**  
  
Maeve Riannon: **LOL. I think _you_ are thinking too hard, ^_~**  
  
Animegirl: **Well I like talking to people (sometimes debating, :P)... though I'll admit most times I like to defend certain choices I make in my fics...**  
  
EEevee:** Creepy, eh? Hmm... and no fears. Kenshin will be a good dad in both this fic and the sequel.**  
  
animefanrk2k: **No, not yet. Though hopefully the ending will be happy to everyone. To me it seems like of... I don't know. A bit of everything. ^_~**  
  
Ariane: **What is it with this chapter and creepy? Heh. So _did_ you dream it? LOL...**  
  
Michiru Kashyuuno: **Neither can I, but what can you do, ^_^;; In this fic he doesn't leave with the frequency that occured in Seisouhen, so it doesn't cause the sort of chaos in the family it caused then. But I think Kaoru would still have felt the absence since she's so dependant on him, which is why certain changes will appear in the sequel. But yes, I think Seisouhen-Kenshin was very selfish, and he needs a good smack.**  
  
haku baikou: **Sounds like I ought to have released that chapter for Hallowe'en or something, ^_~**  
  
ChiisaiLammy: **Hm. Not quite sure what I was thinking with that one... mostly because since it's a dream, it can be either way - she can either be alone, or with her family... I guess I just like complexities, ^_^;;**  
  
Crystal17: **Yugi... *snort* Don't compare them! Ewwwwww! But Cloud's always been my favourite for hairstyle. I'm glad they didn't change it like they changes Squall's in Kingdom Hearts.  


More coming soon!


	98. Chapter 98 Photograph

Disclaimer: Not mine! *huff*

~*~

Kendo no Go  
In The Language of Kendo  
A Fanfic in 100 Chapters  
Akai Kitsune  
~*~  
98) Photograph  
~*~

Kaoru had many prized possessions, and though most were of little material value, she held them close to her heart and treasured them when others might throw them away.

One such treasure was the photograph of her family - that is, herself and her three borders - taken as a victory prize after an adventurous train ride to Yokohama. She often looked fondly at it, fingering the slowly degrading edges, which always seemed to tear no matter how careful she was. It was old and colourless, but she could still remember a great deal about that day: the sun's warmth on her bright cotton kimono, despite how dusty the fight on the train had made it; the wetness of Kenshin's old red gi, from his tumble into the water, and the musky scent of wood, sweat, and horses; Sano's horrified expression, both from the train and the "soul-stealing" invention; Yahiko's cocky, careless grin, one hand confidently resting on his hip after a hard-won victory.

_ 'It seems so far away sometimes,'_ she thought, musing over the old feeling of a close family, a sense of _togetherness_ that was somehow missing. Certainly she was happy as she was now, with new additions and changes she had wanted for a long time, but not all was well.

Thinking this, she liked to place the old photograph with a newer, cleaner family photograph, taken shortly after the birth of her son - only after she had gotten most of her figure back, she had said quite vehemently. In the photo, Kenshin stood in the center with his arm around her waist, Kenji dozing in her arms. On Kenshin's side, Yahiko stood with Tsubame smiling demurely in front of him. Megumi beamed happily on Kaoru's left, Tae standing beside her. All seemed focused not only on the camera, but on the little family standing amongst them, cradling the new addition with a brilliant, radiating love. Kaoru could see it in her eyes, and Kenshin's; months after his birth, Kenji was still a wonder and a new miracle to them.

_ 'If only Sanosuke had been there,'_ she thought sadly to herself, sensing more than seeing the tiniest flicker of remorse and unhappiness in the eyes of her husband. Since Sanosuke's disappearance, he had grown more reserved and quiet, as if he truly lost having someone to confide in, even though they were married fairly soon afterwards. She could understand, a little.

_ 'We both lost a friend that day... but Megumi-san has always been nearby...'_

_ 'Sanosuke...'_

Sometimes she gazed at the photos together, side by side, imagining the family melded together, as one, like it should be. She and Kenshin together, with Kenji, Yahiko and Tsubame someday married off like they ought...

_ 'Maybe even Sanosuke and Megumi, as well,'_ she smiled slyly, imagining the outraged blush that would appear on their faces if she told them that.

Everyone had some treasure, some possession they couldn't seem to let go. Kenshin, she knew, was forever tied to his sakabatou - even after her supposed death, when he had thrown away his life and prepared himself for the inevitable end to his suffering, he could not bring himself to let go of his sword.

Sanosuke tied his old ideals and memories of the Sekihoutai around his mind like the dusty bandanna he wore, no matter how dirt-encrusted and torn it became.

Yahiko carried his shinai everywhere when he was younger, so determined to excel in his studies of kenjutsu that the very idea of being weaponless was intolerable. Very much like the older swordsman he idolizes, she often mused.

But eventually, in the end, anything could be lost from the world, she knew. Pictures could be burned, or could fade with age; swords and shinai could be broken; bandannas and ideals could disappear with the men they were attached to.

_ 'If you hold onto them too tightly, they'll just slip through your grasp...'_

Maybe, though, some things could be leashed, to restrain them from the grasping tendrils of the wider world, the ever-consuming mass of lost treasures, lost ideals, lost dreams. Maybe not everything was temporary, mortal and brief as a breath of air, a faint heartbeat, a human lifetime.

_ 'This love I have for my family...'_

_ '... my whole family... all of them, together...'_

_ 'I'll never let it go...'_  
  
~*~

Another difficult chapter. There are several similarities between this one and a chapter I wanted to write for the sequel, but plans have changed, and I'll figure it out later. But even though I lost track of it a little, I'm pretty sure what I wanted to say was written effectively. ^_^;;  
  
Thoughts of Sano again, but this time from Kaoru's POV. I really miss that guy I guess. Heh...  
  
The original title of this chapter was "Cheese". Still talking about photos, though. I wonder what they say in Japan... anybody know? *looks imploringly at Calger-san*

_Reviewer Responses:_

**LadyShiin: **Countdowns make me nervous, :P**  
  
Aimi-chan: **Well with only two chapters left I can't promise much, ^_^;; But we'll see what happens in the sequel.**  
  
Eevee: **Well, that's part of Kenshin's charm. He's such a stupid genius, ^_~**  
  
Crystal17: **I was pretty interested with the wings, both on Cloud AND Sephiroth. I mean, I know Seph is known as the One-Winged Angel, but Cloud... hmm... well, it's worth writing a fanfic over, ^_~**  
  
haku baikou: **The part where Kenshin worries about the black envelopes is also from a different fic (not mine), but yet again the author/title escapes me... anyway, it was also a very moving one-shot. Thanks for reminding me of that part, ^_^;;**  
  
Calger459: **AH! That's it! Thank you so much, ^_^ I was agonizing over it for ages. As for that one sentence, "That child" refers to sort of his inner child, aka Shinta in "Prism", ^_~ Sort of the guiding point for all his morals and beliefs. If that part of him had died, he wouldn't care if he killed his own master.**  
  
Rabid Tanuki: **I think the mood lightened; I got a lot of comments about that. I think I myself was getting sick of all that misery, and really, I wanted Kenshin and Kaoru to be happy...  


More coming soon!


	99. Chapter 99 Ame

Disclaimer: Not mine! *huff*

~*~

Kendo no Go  
In The Language of Kendo  
A Fanfic in 100 Chapters  
Akai Kitsune  
~*~  
99) Ame  
~*~

The rain was still falling.

Kaoru stood at the open shoji, watching the water cascade from the sky to the waiting ground, small puddles gathering in the yard. It was a mournful sight, the heavens crying their hearts into the world, despite how life-giving such rainfall was.

"There's been too much rain lately."

A soft voice behind her made her turn, just as Kenshin stepped over to stand at her side, one hand resting on the wooden wall frame. His eyes stared out into the storm, as the clouds circled above.

"It'll ruin the garden," Kaoru observed softly, her tone reluctant.

Kenshin shrugged. "If it happens..."

"But you worked so hard," she added, her lip forming a gentle pout.

His gaze hardened for a moment, memories flickering in his eyes before fading again. She wondered what it was he thought of to make him so angry, even for an instant.

Or perhaps it wasn't anger...?

"Kenshin?" she called questioningly, but he turned away, smiling silently, and returned to the vegetables he had been chopping.

"I'll just have to work harder to salvage it," he finally replied, moving on to the fish he had purchased at the market before the storm began.

A frown tightened her lips, but she refrained from commenting. There was no reason to argue with him.

A single cricket whistled outside, the lone composer of a quiet symphony. They stood in silence for a long time, listening.

Impulse struck her, and Kaoru spun towards him, a broad smile on her face.

"Kenshin," she grasped his sleeve, tugging gently, "Let's go find it."

"Oro?" he blinked, surprised and baffled by her request. "Find what?"

"The _ cricket_!" she answered simply, pulling him towards the door.

"But - the food-"

"It can wait."

"Er - and the rain-"

"It's just water," she shrugged aside his concerns, opening the shoji fully.

"But what about your kimono-"

"This old thing?" Kaoru laughed. "It's about as worn as your gi. A little mud will barely touch either of us."

He didn't know how to respond to _that_ comment, and was not given the chance, as she dragged him fully off the engawa and into the pelting rain.

It was cold at first, yet refreshing, and after a moment he allowed himself to smile, enjoying the feel of cool water against his bare skin, and her delightful company.

"Come on!" she encouraged, taking his hand again. "I heard it over here."

The cricket's chirp was merely an excuse, he knew; they both could tell where it had come from, yet avoided it carefully without a word. Soon it fell silent altogether, and they traveled on regardless. She led him towards the garden, drawing her fingers through the untrimmed grass and giggling as the water dribbled down her neck, a soothing butterfly's tickle.

"Maybe the rain isn't so bad," she smiled brightly at him, squeezing his hand gently. "The flowers are thriving."

He gazed past her pointing finger, his step faltering for a moment as he recognized the flower. "Irises," he noted absently, as if just then realizing they existed in the garden.

"Yes," she nodded, not seeing his sudden hesitation. "My mother loved the irises, and she would talk about them a lot. I can't really remember what she said, though... just that she was always happy with her flowers." Her smile turned wistful. "She used to talk to them, and sometimes I wished they could tell me what she said."

Suddenly she looked playful again, tugging him towards them, and Kenshin had not the heart to resist. He followed her lead, breathing in the gentle, floating perfume of the blooming flower. They were white, pure and beautiful, still small in the early season. Careful so as not to disturb the rest of the branch, he pulled free a single blossom and tucked it behind her ear, inhaling deeply. She smiled shyly in response.

"You know," he said after a long moment, "Someone once told me that the scent of the iris is stronger in the rain than in the sun."

"Really?"

"Aa," Kenshin nodded, stepping past her to crouch beside the rest of the flowers. "It's the blossom of secrets, of hidden feelings and guarded thoughts. The rain... it has no defense against such things."

Kaoru blushed slightly and laughed again. "It almost seems like _you_ brought the rain, to make us share all these stories!"

His hand froze against the petals, twitching briefly in an uncontrolled reaction to her words. The laughter died in her throat.

"Kenshin?"

He smiled up at her, his eyes and the darkness within them hidden again. "Perhaps I did," he murmured, his gaze releasing a soft twinkle as if he still carried a secret he might share.

"But," he added after a moment, "Perhaps the irises still have secrets of their own."

That said, he held out his hand, opening his fingers when she looked down at them.

Resting in his palm was a single, silent cricket.

Her smile returned as it bounced away at the first moment of freedom, and he straightened, standing beside her once again.

"Look," she suddenly gasped, pointing towards the sky, "The rainbow!"

Even in the midst of the storm, the bright trail of colours spread out across the fading rain clouds, another secret treasure for the couple to share.

Kaoru was surprised when it was Kenshin who took her hand, a softness in his violet gaze as rain fell through the crimson bangs which clung to his forehead.

"Shall we go in?" he offered, and she finally nodded, the flower in her hair glistening in the growing light. Stepping beyond the flowers, they headed for their dojo home.

Behind them, the crickets heralded the arrival of the brilliant colours which streaked across the golden sky.  
  
~*~

Written (mostly) to the sounds of crickets and rainfall at the cottage, WAAY ahead of schedule, ^_^;; This has to be one of my favourite chapters.  
  
The original title of this chapter was "Blossom". I was terribly indecisive with this one, finally settling on the Japanese word for rain.

One more to go...

_Reviewer Responses:_

**Sean Montgomery**: Thank you. I hope the sequel will be just as worthwhile - although truthfully, this is probably the best fanfic I've ever written, so the sequel will be hard pressed to keep up.  
  
**Calger459**: Hm. How does one smile after saying the "ooh" for "chiizu"? Very curious. And now I want to see those pictures! Mou... *e-mails over a scanner*  
  
**JML**: Heh, I guess they have a couple different ways, then. That's cute, though.  
  
**LadyShiin**: *munches on cookies* Why thank you. I needed some incentive.  
  
**animefanrk2k**: All right, all right. With one chapter left, I _will_ allow a countdown. :P  
  
**Ariane**: It wasn't really meant to be sad... well, I guess it came out that way, didn't it... oh well. The "flicker of remorse" was meant to be seen in the photo, more noticeable there since he can hide it in real life, but once it's captured on film, he can't erase it, ^_~  
  
**Michiru Kashyuuno**: Ah, I said I _might_ do a wedding chapter. I wasn't sure. BTW, I saw Last Samurai last Tuesday, and I loved it. I may go see it again next week, ^_^;;  
  
**YoukoKurama201**: Heh, well most of the material was based off the show, so the more you watch, the more you'll probably recognize.  
  
**Rainchaser**: I like to think that Kaoru missed Sano as much as anyone else, so I figured she would want to see him with the rest of the family, ^_^  
  
**Psychotic Tanuki**: Why do I suddenly feel like I could have guessed that? :P  
  
**Crazy Girl Person**: Only one left now. Don't remind me! *wails* Oh well. Sequel well on it's way.  
  
**Eevee**: Well hopefully I'll be able to drag him into the sequel at some point, ^_^  
  
**April-san**: I almost don't want it to be. I don't want it to end-! ;_; Oh well. More to come after this. It's not like my muse is ever _really_ dead... yet. *looks around suspiciously*  
  
**haku baikou**: BANG! I mean, er, hi. I _know_ I will be, but hey, it's not over yet, ne? ^_~  
  
**Crystal17**: Actually, I did dabble a bit in a KH fic for Cloud. Check my bio for details - I posted it the other day.  


More coming soon!


	100. Chapter 100 Answer

Disclaimer: Not mine! *huff*

It's the end, ;_; As a tribute to the ending and the fic as a whole, this chapter is longer than usual. I hope you enjoy it. It's been a fun ride, minna-san...

~*~

Kendo no Go  
In The Language of Kendo  
A Fanfic in 100 Chapters  
Akai Kitsune  
~*~  
100) Answer  
~*~

_You hold the answers deep within your own mind._

_Consciously, you've forgotten it._

_That's the way the human mind works._

_Whenever something is too unpleasant, too shameful for us to entertain, we reject it._

_We erase it from our memories._

_But the answer is always there.  
_  
~*~  
  
The snow was falling, brilliant and beautiful, from the sky to the empty yard in a wild flurry. Kaoru smiled at the sight, her mind urging her bare feet forward to allow the soft sound of those flakes crunch beneath them, but responsibility held her back.

Part of being a mother, she supposed, was being able to know when to let loose and when to hold back. It was a hard balance, but she was learning.

And some people _needed_ to learn, she decided, as Kenji flew past her, tumbling straight into the snow with a muffled giggle, his father close behind him, slower but no less enthusiastic. They watched in amusement as the boy rolled a snowball between his fingers, trying to hide it, and Kenshin, glancing surreptitiously at Kaoru, pressed his fingers to his lips as a sign for secrecy, and carefully turned his back from the child. Kaoru smiled, pursing her own lips to withhold her laughter.

Kenshin set free a soft "oro" as the snowball collided with his back, and he spun on his heels, chasing his hysterical, mischievous son around the yard, feigning anger and indignance which fooled no one. Kenji fell into the snow again, stuffing the feathery ice around his head as if to hide himself, even as Kenshin's arms curved around the boy's waist.

"Kyaa!" Kenji cried through his laughter as Kenshin tickled him playfully. "Tousan, stop it, stop it!"

Kenshin did, lifting the boy higher to rest on his shoulders, where Kenji twined his hands through his father's hair for support.

"Kenshin," Kaoru called with a grin, holding something in her hands, "Aren't you forgetting something?"

"Oro," Kenshin murmured again, taking the missing sandal from her and curving his head to meet Kenji's eyes. "I thought you had them both?"

"Tousan," Kenji giggled, tugging on the crimson strands between his fingers, "That's _ yours_!"

Kenshin smiled broadly, winking at Kaoru. "So it is," he agreed brightly, balancing on one foot to place the sandal where it belonged. "Shall we go then?"

"Don't forget to ask Tae-san when the engagement party is," Kaoru reminded pointedly, "And bring back some sweetcakes."

"Wai! Sweetcakes!" Kenji cheered, rocking back and forth in his enthusiasm. "Lots and lots of sweetcakes!"

Kenshin smiled musingly. "Just enough for us, Kenji. Maybe if Yahiko comes over, we'll get some extra."

"And if he doesn't," Kenji asked curiously, "Can I eat them?"

Both parents couldn't help but laugh. "Maybe," Kenshin said quietly, so Kaoru would not hear.

Kaoru wasn't listening. She was watching him, her arm rested slightly against the engawa post, admiring his figure in the falling snow. The dark luster of her father's navy hanten looked positively stunning on him, she decided, giving a brief nod in silent agreement. She was glad she had insisted he wear it, and that Kenji had been present to plead with him - or bargain, she corrected, thinking of the child's words.

_ "If I have to bundle up, Daddy, then you do too!"_

_ "Sou de gozaru ka?"_

_ "Hai!"_

The memory made her smile, and she waved as they finished preparing to leave.

"Take care on the road," she gave a final warning, and Kenshin merely nodded, not really needing to be told - he was _always_ careful when Kenji was with him - but appreciating it nonetheless.

"We always do, don't we Kenji?"

"Yep!" Kenji's head bobbed in agreement. "See you later, kaasan!"

The wind blew harder, and Kenji shrieked, burying his face in Kenshin's hair. Kaoru caught Kenshin's low chuckle, as he gave the boy's head a comforting pat.

"I love you!" Kaoru called, impulsively, once they reached the gate, not really knowing why. Kenshin seemed to understand - which wasn't unusual, she thought with a slightly envious glint in her eyes - but Kenji merely grinned and waved again, calling back to her, "I love you too!"

"I love you three!"

"I love you four!"

"I love you a million!" Kaoru batted back, her hands on her hips in victory.

Kenji faltered, blinking for a moment, baffled at what he might say to beat her statement. Kenshin leaned back again, whispering in his ear, and the smile reappeared, as he called, "I love you forever!"

Kaoru laughed delightedly, her eyes eternally grateful as they met Kenshin's ever-knowing gaze. He didn't speak, merely mouthed the same words, and left the dojo, Kenji still waving at his back.

"I love you forever," she whispered to herself, crossing her arms across her chest to ward away the cold, even as the words of her family warmed her heart.

The snow was loud beneath his feet, and he felt himself sink with each step. It was still snowing hard, and he wasn't sure if today was such a good day for an unnecessary visit to the Akabeko, but he could hardly deny Kenji's childish pleas, especially after promising to purchase some cakes.

Kenshin wiggled his nose, feeling the chill of a snowflake resting upon his nose, and Kenji laughed, watching him. The snow finally melted on his flushed skin, and he licked his lips, catching the drop as it trailed past his scar towards his chin. Cold, biting cold; he shivered, trying to hide it from his son, but the soft tremor made Kenji blink, arms curving closer around his neck.

"What the matter, Tousan? Are you scared? Don't you like the snow?"

Kenshin replied quickly, "Of course I do, I love it, I'm all right," laughing, lying, and the snow in his mouth tasting of blood.

Kenji was fooled by his hasty response, and they continued on their way, heading towards the Akabeko on a mission of utmost importance.

Tsubame greeted them at the door, blushing and smiling broadly despite her usual shyness. Kenshin bowed low as he congratulated her, and Kenji slid from his shoulders to give her a long hug.

As he pulled away, his eyes like sapphire teacups, he blurted, "Are you and Yahiko-niichan really getting married?"

Tsubame flushed pink again, and she brushed her hand through Kenji's hair, beaming. "Yes we are, Kenji-chan. Isn't it exciting?"

"Yep!" Kenji grinned, darting past her to tackle Yahiko's legs as he too approached them. With the boy clinging to his hakama, Yahiko smiled at Kenshin and clasped his arm as one man to another, a silent companionship. Neither were certain that the engagement was a completely wise idea, despite the obvious mutual feelings between the young couple, but seventeen was still an age Kenshin was wary of, and he carried far too many memories of Yahiko and Tsubame as simple children, involved in an innocent romance and nothing more.

But he could not object to their choice, nor would he - or Kaoru, for that matter, although she was less likely to doubt, having married at a close age herself - and he was genuinely happy for them.

"What brings you here?" Yahiko asked, calling him back to reality, and he was led to a table, sitting down with Kenji and the newly engaged couple to explain the purpose of their outing.

They ended up remaining at the restaurant for several hours, when the gentle snowfall became a storm, far too severe to travel through - perhaps not for Kenshin, but for the child he had brought with him. The pair waited out the storm with their madly blushing companions, the conversation light and unofficial, steering from any discussions of weddings unless Kenji brought it up briefly.

Kenshin was careful to hide his amusement at the evident shyness of the newly-betrothed. He knew the feeling himself, although he didn't mention anything to them; his first marriage had hardly ended well, and that story would not comfort them in the slightest.

When the snow began to die down, a brief respite from the previous downpour, he announced it was time to go home. Kenji was already full of sweets, thanks to Tae's indulgent hands, so he carefully bagged the remaining treats and thanked their host graciously. He placed his hand on Yahiko's shoulder, and squeezed Tsubame's hand, wordlessly speaking to both of them, and he left the Akabeko with a genuine smile on his face, Kenji's hand clasping his.

They were young, he knew, but they were honest and true to each other, and they had hope. Such things were important in a marriage, and he couldn't help but feel a little envious of them.

_ 'If I had hesitated with Tomoe... perhaps...'_

But there was no sense in dwelling in the past. If he had hesitated, there may have been nothing to wait for, and the things she had taught him during their time together was truly priceless.

If he had hesitated, there would not be a child at his side, holding his hand with sticky, sugar-coated fingers, chattering amiably about the upcoming celebration.

If he had hesitated, there would not be a bright-eyed, smiling wife waiting for him at home.

Despite his thoughts, he was grateful he had waited to ask Kaoru to be his wife. Haste and reckless choices only caused pain for all involved - he was a living example of the truth in those words. He _had_ to wait, to protect her; he had to be sure.

_ 'I had to be sure I wasn't mistaken... that I wouldn't end up hurting her like I hurt Tomoe.'_

He hurt her by waiting too long, though, which was why - when Yahiko came to him initially, eyes hidden and downcast, hands clenching and unclenching at his side, asking if it would be logical and wise to ask Tsubame to be his bride - he had smiled at the young man he had come to call, in his mind, a son, and nodded, saying simply that he must do as his heart told him. If his heart summoned him to marry, then he must do so, or try, at least.

"Hesitation will get you nowhere," he had told Yahiko gently, yet with caution, "But taking consideration in your actions is not a bad idea either. Keep that in mind."

The assistant master of the Kamiya dojo had paused, cinnamon eyes slowly rising to meet his mentor's. "But..." he gulped, chewing lightly on his lip, "What if she says no?"

Kenshin had almost laughed, but was far too considerate of the boy's feelings to give in to the impulse. Sano would have laughed, he was certain.

"Tsubame-dono," he had murmured instead, deadly serious, "Cares very deeply for you, Yahiko. If you are true to her feelings, then whatever you do, you will both be happy."

He would say no more on the matter. One week later, the engagement was announced.

Now, walking home after watching the two of them together, he was confident that the right choice had been made. Yahiko and Tsubame complimented each other, and Kenshin couldn't help but wonder if their marriage would echo his own: both himself and Yahiko needed someone to protect, yet still rely upon. Tsubame, while shy, was certainly a brave and intelligent girl - wise enough to hold Yahiko back if she needed to.

_ 'Just like my Kaoru,'_ he mused, _'Any faults are far outshone by her spirit. That is how it should be.'_

_ 'Tomoe... in your darkness... I wish you could have been like that. I think... it would have made us happier in the end.'_

_ 'It has made _me_ happier... this I know...'_

And he knew Kaoru was happy as well, despite his own faults, despite the occasional time he had to leave for a week or so, despite the fact that he didn't always look happy, even if he really was.

He was working on that. He genuinely, honestly was.

_ "It's so hard for me, koishii..."_

_ "When you are happy, then I'll always be happy."_

_ "I promise..."_

He tried his best to make her happy, to keep that brilliant, beautiful smile on her lips, the light in her eyes that seemed to shine in any weather, any situation.

Beautiful eyes, she and her son. Their son.

_My son._

He would never let go of these things. They were _his_ - Battousai was always a possessive one, he was forced to admit - and he would not allow anything to touch them, to hurt them.

Even him. _Especially_ him.

"Tousan?" Kenji's voice called up to him, curious and quiet. "Are you cold?"

_ "Are you happy?"_

"Just a little," he responded, giving the tiny hand he held a gentle squeeze. "Are you?"

Kenji's head bobbed. "Hai."

Kenshin halted, knelt down in the snow, and opened his arms, inviting the boy with a nod and a smile. "Come on then; maybe we can keep each other warm."

The child came gratefully, his hands tucked inside his gi as Kenshin's arms wrapped around him, drawing him close. He rose in one swift motion, and Kenji cuddled closer, nestled deep in the navy hanten which was already decorated with snow.

"Tousan?"

"Yes?"

"Is that better?"

_Warm. My son. _"Much better. Thank you."

Kenji smiled shyly, hiding his face in the hanten's dark warmth. He didn't give a response.

The world never stopped, Kenshin realized then, carrying his small son home, as the snow fell in diminutive tornadoes around them. It never stopped, never hesitated, never waited for anything to happen. It forged ahead, despite faults, or the problems of the people living in it. Like the wind, it carried on, ignoring the icy burdens borne by its weight.

_ 'I want to be like that,' _he thought to himself, his head lifted to face the chilling breeze, blinking away the snowflakes which melted on his eyelashes. _'I want to be like the wind.'_

_ 'I want to carry on, despite this life, or the life before it. Despite faults, despite what happens to me...'_

_ 'I want to keep moving, without moving at all.'_

_ 'I... I want to stay...'_

The dojo lay before him. Kenji stirred against his chest, a grin appearing on his face at the sight of home.

_Home_.

Kaoru was waiting for them, brushing the loose, light snow from the engawa. He wondered how long she had been there, her cheeks flushed by the nipping of the wind, her hair as white as Gensai-sensei's by the white flakes that coated it. But perhaps she felt it was worth it, for when she looked up and spotted them, her eyes were bright, the smile on her face dazzling amidst the falling snow.

Where he belonged was here, no matter how the wind might blow enticingly towards the road.

This place, this old house with the spying shoji, the immortal dojo, the blossoming garden which held the haunting ghosts of friends long gone; this was the only place he could ever truly return to.

"Tadaima," he murmured, curving one arm around her waist, kissing her pink cheeks and feeling the warmth of her blush, listening to the sound of her welcoming reply.

This place, with his wife and child of bright eyes, of beautiful smiles and contagious laughter, was where he always wanted to be.

This place was home.  
  
~*~  
  
_Kendo no Go _- _Owari_  
  
~*~

After eleven months, 100 chapters, lots of hair pulling, and plenty of encouragement from friends and strangers alike, I finally did it. _Kendo no Go _is complete.

A lot of changes in this final chapter, but the original was quite puzzling, and when this idea came to me I just had to write it. I thought it was a fitting ending, even though in a way, the story is endless. If I had the inspiration to go on forever I probably would, ^_^ Which is why I still plan to do a sequel of sorts, if the muse allows, though I'm not sure when. This was a good distraction from my other fics, but I've fallen behind a little and I want to take a bit of a break before I go on. Keep an eye out, because I haven't even titled it yet!  
  
Regarding Yahiko and Tsubame's engagement: who knows when this happened? Heh. At that time, seventeen wasn't such a bad age for marriage, and this fact will tie in further with the sequel. According to Watsuki-san's notes, Yahiko's son is a bit of a rival for Kenji, so they have to have the kid before Kenji is too old, ^_^  
  
The original title for this chapter was "Afraid". The beginning section comes from Evanescence's "Understanding". Thanks to Chelle-san for introducing me to this amazing, inspirational group.  
  
A final thank you goes out to all you readers who have been brilliantly inspirational to me, both in much-needed encouragement as well as giving me ideas for future chapters.  
  
A special thank you to **Calger459** (you are truly amazing and I can't wait to see your future projects! Thanks for all your support!), **M** (some of the most inciteful comments came from you, and I really appreciated the depth in which you hold these little stories), **Iram** (again, awesome depth, interesting commentary, and great encouragement), **Ariane** (I'll write the sequel just for you even if no one else reads it! ^_~), **haku baikou** (you made me laugh, you made me smile. Thanks for everything!), **April-san** (who puts up with my pokeyness with much patience and a lot of good humour), **Michiru Kashyuuno**, **Eevee**, **LadyShiin**, **Maeve Riannon**, **animefanrk2k**, **Crystal17**, **Lucrecia LeVrai**, **Animegirl**, **ChiisaiLammy**, all for being so vigilant and keeping me going with every chapter. If I forgot anyone who reviewed regularly, it's not because your reviews didn't mean anything to me - I can guarantee that every one was nothing but supportive.

Thank you for reading.

~ Akai Kitsune  
December, 2003


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